Friday, December 26, 2008

limerick: the viscosity of love

i'm the sort who'll mourn milk before i spill it,
assume a knocked cup will sour my skirt, and Goodwill it.
but it's happened too often: like the last blobs of oatmeal,
all that's nice in my life will grow cold, and congeal,
and leave me, gloved and grunting, to scour the skillet.

3 comments:

Kallie said...

this is BEAUTIFUL SHAUNA. also sad. I will love you so hardcore when I see you in 4 days!!!

alecia. said...

this reminds me of the time you were trying to wash dishes and coffee water spilled all over you before work and you were very angry

shauna said...

alecia that is exactly what i was thinking of

it's supposed to be funny ha-ha
at least a little

it's not, like, ALL true