A place for discussion on poetry, reviews, contests, etc. |
Griping About the Grind I'm putting on clean socks again, as I did only yesterday. I wish this were those ancient times when clothes were crude and men were men, living in some rocky den, in footwear made from hides of prey. So please don't even mention shoes. They sit unshined, and dull they'll stay. I care but squat of others' views. I dress and act howe'er I choose. I've played the game and paid my dues. And anyway, it's Saturday. |