“By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing.
And he vows his passion is,
Infinite, undying.
Lady make note of this --
One of you is lying.”
― Dorothy Parker
I'm in "a mood," but not for writing. The sun is slowly rising. I'm tired, and uninspired. . . . There was a better generation (or two) at this than mine. There was something fine about them. For me, they are "The Better Generation."
You've no, enthusiasm
You're tired and uninspired
You're blase
Your day is one of leisure
In which you search for pleasure
You're bored when you're adored
You're blase
While reaching for the moon
And the stars up in the sky
The simple things of normal life
Are slowly passing by
You sleep, the sun is shining
You wake, its time for dining
There's nothing new for you to do
You're blase
While reaching for the moon
And the stars up in the sky
The simple things of normal life
Are slowly passing by
You sleep, the sun is shining
You wake, its time for dining
There's nothing new for you to do
You're blase
Blase
ReplyDeleteAfter watching "Boyhood" yesterday I took to my bed with a cup of milky chai tea to read "The Bolter" the story of Idina Sackville. What else is there to do with 2 feet of snow falling amidst 50 MPH winds. There are other things,of course, but the impassable roads and travel ban did not allow for getting anywhere near where those other things could possibly occur. So with two dogs - one content to sleep the entire day and another constantly dropping a ball on the floor waiting for something good to happen the storm waged on.
Later I roasted some brussel sprouts and small fingerling potatoes in some fine olive oil and ate them salted and remembered meal I had in the Marais -- one of those chickens with the potatoes that roast along with the chicken dripped with all the fat and butter. Nostalgia.
The book wasn't nearly as good as the sprouts and potatoes but it was something to wile away parts of the storm hours.
I wrote to a friend last night that I was feeling "agitated" -- the light is changing away from dark winter --or so it seems. I've seen the fox in the yard twice this week --perhaps I am suffering from a false sense of a coming springtime.
Selah ... indeed.
Is the sap beginning to flow? The creek starting to rise? Or is it a false spring?
Delete:)