The Mind Mimics the Body
By Cynicism101
So, you admit that it's probably the springtime of that dirty back alley of your mind that controls what you like to call primitive mating urges. I love this admission, because it says too much about you; you've obligated yourself to repress the spring blood's dance. No May Day celebration for you. No maidens in white, no men in breeches. Not that the men were ever a part of that image, anyway. And, in my own mind's springtime, I find the maid finds traces of you in quite a few dirty corners and synapses. I have no doubt that this has as little to do with your humour as with my - my lack of focus, perhaps. My assumed role of pagan spring-worshipper. My mother told me to take vitamins, to begin a biochemical war against you and all your cliches that I've adapted and arranged for myself, so they fit that ceili of springtime tulip revelry.I love prose poems; prose poems are my partners in crime. If I were a famous poet, I'd commission myself to right a book of poems examining and reworking a selected collection of cliches. They fascinate me. Written March 28th, 2002 © on Mar 28 2002 01:21 PM PST 0 • 10
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"So, you admit that it's probably the springtime of that dirty back alley of your mind that controls what you like to call primitive mating urges. I love this admission, because it says too much about you; you've obligated yourself to repress the spring blood's dance. No May Day celebration for you. No maidens in white, no men in breeches. Not that the men were ever a part of that image, anyway. ..."