Wednesday 24 September, 2008

Pint o'clock


The minor miracles of perfect sentences.
The joy of punctuation excused of paying unwarranted rent.
The misery of the untold…
The Ghost of Errors Past.
The euphoria of a well-deserved semicolon.
The peaceful death of a story well told.
The execution of a much-hated grammatical hang-up.
The poisoning of a structural hiccup.
And, most of all,
the inexcusable ending of four-hundred words
with a cliché from the past.

Nothing makes up for the abject demise of
a time when time was well-spent
if time meant a verbally flattened pint
with you.