You know what's coming. It was poetry night. Here is my latest newborn poem, written to help me in the mourning process:
Suspicious...
Swine flu? Or Swine fluke
Thought up by some Duke
Feeling bored and having the urge--I am sure--
to instill fear in the hearts of all in the world
and keep Miss Dianey here, which is far
from that fiesta- siesta-filled splendid lugar.
It's far too ironic to be left to fate
that the trip would be canceled with just days to wait.
"That Spanish you learned? Those needles you felt...
We were really just kidding. Oh man, you got dealt!"
I'll let them all laugh and enjoy their cruel jest.
I'll pretend to be bitterly angry at best,
But deep down inside, I'm alright, feelin' fine,
For this disappointment created this rhyme.
For those who haven't yet learned Spanish, you really oughta. It's awesome.
fiesta= party (dancing, food, staying up really late, mariachi bands... just my style)
siesta= nap
lugar= place (Guadalajara. sigh.)
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