The sheer rancour and bile of this confers a nobility on such a fine hatred.
The poem is almost spat at the reader.
I am fascinated by your limitation of rhyme in the sonnet form, an
interesting divergence. The sestet especially limited to just one rhyme and
those developed withflair and creativity that gives the poem its acid
humour. A good read Grassie, for which thanks. Arthur.
----- Original Message -----
From: "grasshopper" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, October 19, 2003 4:35 AM
Subject: New sub : The Ex-Romantic (prov. title)
> The Ex-Romantic (provisional title)
> with apologies to E.B.B.
>
>
> How do I hate you? Let me count the ways:
> I hate you from the bottom of my bowels,
> and from the height of mind's disdain, with blaze
> of bile, and with the throat's disgusted howls.
> I hate whole-hog. I hate your stubbly jowls,
> your farts, your lies, your smirks, the way you laze
> while I wash up, the way you drop damp towels.
> I hate you faithfully through all our days.
>
> I live in hope you'll be an early croaker;
> a Matterhorn of fat may cause a stroke, a
> Windermere of beer may choke a joker.
> A light? Thank God you're such a heavy smoker.
> One day in hell your fire may need a stoker -
> I'll be one busy devil with the poker.
>
> grasshopper
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