Apollo-gee

I give an apology for not writing. The great gods of the internet chose to cut unseen cords over the past few days, leaving a mysterious void where once was the information superhighway.

In addition to this, school decided to engage in some sort of sudden-death match, where all classes converged in fatal battles, melees of my making, like the The Running Man, but with pencils instead of flamethrowers, neon lights, and chainsaws. And it ain't over yet.

But it is back on. To celebrate, let's enjoy a poetry plethorum.

First, "Biopsy," from Sophie Cabot Black. She's a teacher at Colombia University and has two books of poems. There is something beautiful about the intersecting of human experience.

Second, ""When I was one-and-twenty..." by A E Housman. It's a poem who's lesson I should've learned by now. It will give you special insight into the state of my love-life. It's cheesy, but it's true.

Thanks to copyright mortality, read it below.

"When I was one-and-twenty..."

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
'Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.
'But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty

I heard him say again,
'The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.
'And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

And third, the anonymous, fabulous "The Virtues of Carnation Milk." I love it most for its gratuitous use of profanity. You just can't beat that.

Anonymous puts out some of the best verse out there. I've heard that he's from South Dakota, and is working on a screenplay.

"The Virtues of Carnation Milk"

Carnation Milk is the best in the land;
Here I sit with a can in my hand --
No tits to pull, no hay to pitch,

You just punch a hole in the son of a bitch.