What an odd duck.
Reading his mead is like
drowning in sweet
annoyance. His criticism,
self-westernizing
reference to Greek
heroes; I know but don't care
as much as my sister,
My look-a-like; Die Zwilinge.
Who am I to question the genius.
A genius of his craft,
but blind in sanity.
Who am I to question us,
Deaf to the genius
of our own Muse-ick.
It is just us three:
#, Brel and me.
Trois Faisans,
# 6 ft under self,
Master Brel sings
still of Les Bourgeois,
and me toolin around
still JoJo.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
What an odd duck.
Reading his mead is like
drowning in sweet
annoyance. His criticism,
self-westernizing
reference to Greek
heroes; I know but don't care
as much as my sister,
My look-a-like; Die Zwilinge.
Who am I to question the genius.
A genius of his craft,
but blind in sanity.
Who am I to question us,
Deaf to the genius
of our own Muse-ick.
It is just us three:
#, Brel and me.
Trois Faisans,
# 6 ft under self,
Master Brel sings
still of Les Bourgeois,
and me toolin around
still JoJo.
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