The nightwatchman caught her by the shoulder and drew her away from the tiger cage.
"Ms. Dickinson," he said softly, as not to bruise her mind, "there's no clock in there either."
She turned to face him, her expression pregnant with pretension. The nightwatchman interrupted before she could continue in verse.
"The dawn will come around 6:30. You're probably just discombobulated by daylight savings time. Let me show you back to your suite."
Counter est. March 2, 2008
If I liked Emily Dickinson better, I might not have howled so loud, but I don't get her dashing punctuation.
ReplyDelete*grins* Poor lady, Daylight Saving Time confuses all of us.
LMAO -- at least, as loud as I'm allowed to in the library. This is classic! I wrote a poem about Dickinson once, in her own style. I won't share it here because I don't dislike you enough.
ReplyDeleteThanks for brightening my already-pleasant day just a little more.
Oh! If Travis ever decides to share his poem , I'll share Sissyfriss Sockmonkey...the worst [and most viral] poem I ever wrote...
ReplyDeletePS. I LOVE it when people speak softly to me to keep from bruising my mind.
Laughed out loud at this. Good one, John!
ReplyDelete"her expression pregnant with pretension" < Damn Best Line Award - please accept your prize at the podium of a brilliant bag of Peanut M&M's (best prize on earth).
ReplyDeleteGosh I'd love to hear Karen do "Sissyfris" ... I've always thought that sweet Em suffered from letting that thing called 'hope' flutter to the pavement and get all discombobulated by not ever leaving her room. Fool.
~ Absolutely*Kate, lovin' your wry, WriterGuy