When in my cups I turn to poetry. At the perfect point of mild intoxication I am inclined to seek out a soupçon of iambic pentameter and a perfectly formed sonnet. When this point of perfection has passed I am prone (literally) to recite a soliloquy from Hamlet.
Perhaps this is why I get punched so much.
Trawling youtube in the one handed inebriated prone position the other night I was delighted to discover the putting a poem to music nadir. Talk about missing the point on purpose. Miss Dolly Parton (may her name be blessed) would be dead chuffed.
There's something to be said for serendipity:
I think the Kings of Leon should do 'The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock' by T S Eliot. That would be serious rawk.
About pretension
1 week ago
4 comments:
Poetry works for me!
I knew I shouldn't have had those mushrooms for lunch. I just had an hallucination that Mickey Mouse in a stetson sang a Byron poem... It's not real, is it...? Tell me it's not real?
What a strange reaction to the drink.
When intoxicated I also speak a great many wise words - in prose and somewhat sssllurred..
Unfortunately no one writes them down - so I will never be appreciated by future generations.
I asked him: "Will you wear your trousers rolled?" He looked blank. I broke up with him that evening.
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