A cold coming we had of it,

Just the worst time of the year

For a journey, and such a long journey: Do you ever wonder why we can’t speak in rhyme? No more.

Or why we can’t express ourselves in anything other than whispers (on blogs – anonymous?)

OH that we could belt out…some song. (that wouldn’t wake up the neighbours)

Our strength, our fate, our fortitude! Writ small in dancing nonstop short blogging tunes – a little OneSTDV, a Half Sigma, a Sailer or two.

‘Tis our fate to never be, anything more than vignettes, the alt-right crowd – crying un-ryhyming sonnets to no one.

But our vanity.

(And who will weep for us?)

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