Spillage

When stuff spills.

Spillage

© 2010  Mark Pearce

 

 

My thoughts are not interesting anymore.

Not thoughts at all, as I can tell. 

Just spillage.

 

One would expect in a downpour

That at least one droplet would prove spectacular.

Marvelous, perhaps.

 

But search as I may,

I cannot find such marvel within these parched words.

 

Perhaps each graph up-loaded, disassembled,

codified, algorithmically rearranged, sorted, tested,

reassembled, downloaded and packaged properly,

there would be something revealed

of keen celebration.

 

But fortune presaged,

the process would result as Longfellow

but lacking the final “r.”

 

Alas, I’ll choose last breath

in this beast - this roiling rive.

 

Author's Note

Here you go.

Reviews

[.]

first, I like when I have to look up a word..(rive) thanks...

your references lead me to think you an engineering type, perhaps not, but I can relate...there are internal functions unseen, that construct and shape thoughts, work if you will...after such "efforts" this is it?....admittedly, I have written these thoughts in my head, reality has kept them there

good deal here

[Emily B]

I think I need to come back to this. Not quite awake enough to do you justice.