Monday, March 21, 2005
(1:42 AM) | Anonymous:
Dedicated to Hindrocket but he wasn't listening
I intended for bloggers to be writing sonnets. If a sonnet is a sound-bite, then yes, I encourage sound-bites. -- Adam KotskoWhoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind.
The hunt is hard and the flesh forbidden:
One must indulge in a place that's hidden,
But one must sin, or else cry and go blind.
So draw your bow, the arrow stiff and thick;
Let loose the shaft, and should it sink within,
And out and in as muscle works, you win:
A mighty blow was yours, no meagre prick.
Whoso list its hunt, I put you out of doubt
You rub your bow with oil all in vain
For tattooed on this hind in letters plain
There reads a warning none can live to flout:
Noli me futuere, for Kotsko's I am:
Be sure you will find me shut tight as a clam.
