The Isolated Blurt Thread XXVIII : In Praise of Older Yoga Pants

Status
Not open for further replies.
The forms disappeared and were no more than a dream,
A sketch that slowly falls
Upon the forgotten canvas, that the artist
Completes from memory alone.
 
I'm going to laugh my ass off if the new blurt thread is captured by someone who sounds a lot like the much lamented original poster, who is no longer with us.
 
Crouched behind the boulders, an anxious dog
Watched us with angry eye,
Waiting for the moment to take back from the carcass
The morsel he had left.
 
— And yet you will be like this corruption,
Like this horrible infection,
Star of my eyes, sunlight of my being,
You, my angel and my passion!
 
I'm going to laugh my ass off if the new blurt thread is captured by someone who sounds a lot like the much lamented original poster, who is no longer with us.

That would be a fitting tribute.

One poster, dragging the blurtocracy around by its collective nose ring.
 
Yes! thus will you be, queen of the Graces,
After the last sacraments,
When you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers,
To molder among the bones of the dead.
 
Then, O my beauty! say to the worms who will
Devour you with kisses,
That I have kept the form and the divine essence
Of my decomposed love!
 
I'm going to laugh my ass off if the new blurt thread is captured by someone who sounds a lot like the much lamented original poster, who is no longer with us.

It's an act of compassion. A pity party for the long lost humour of a once renowned poster. :(:rose:
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top