now is the winter of our discontent
made glorious summer by our lack of free time.
without such a luxury as pope was wont to envy:
'thus let me live,' said he, 'unseen and unknown'
'thus unlamented let me die.'
but without this time to over think and analyze
who will there be to huff and who will puff?
if not us than who? and if not now?
I'd never want someone so crass as to want someone like me.
who shot that arrow in your throat?
who missed the crimson apple?
veni vidi vici
the robot tried to speak, to manipulate. he tried to sound animate.
A strange melancholy pervades me to which i
hesitate to give the grave and melancholy name of sorrow.
so instead i pulled the lambchops over their eyes.
amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur
tread softly, for you tread on the best minds of my generation,
which rubs its back against the yellow panes.
And i will say what dear friends say,
or so very little longer.