Yes, somewhere in the middle of scribbling frantic thoughts on boddhisattva's, homoeroticism in the lives of holy fools, and queer critiques of marriage theology, I stopped to play this game.
Put your MP3 player on shuffle, and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first is the title.
i’ll tell you something…
destiny, destiny protect me from the world --
the Mississippi Delta is shining like a national guitar --
they watch you, your expert double exs
your cd collection looks shiny and costly
you can look, but you can’t touch
whatcha gonna do when the party’s over?
take me back to dear old blighty?
time is like a broken watch
isn’t god allowed to think?
i am he, as you are he, and we are all together
touch your thighs, i’m the lonely one
i tried to fall in it again
adia, i do believe i’ve failed you
what you want, what you got . . .
i can’t believe the news today
because the world is round
a sub-granite wall numbs our bones
on nights like this when the world’s a bit amiss
give me some of this
anytime i need to see your face
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
