BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

grumble, grumble, grumble ...

Do you ever just want to bash somebody's teeth in with a brick? Man ... I got another bitchy e-mail from this "little Hitler" up at 2U who seems intent on staging a putsch on the damn web site I've been developing. Hell, SHE'S the damn bottleneck on information! This bitch will NOT give me useable info to update the web site and then runs around complaining about how it's out of date (and sending me snippy e-mails ... hey, CLUE TIME, BITCH! ... it's a LOT more useful to tell me the new name, e-mail, and phone of some new committee chair than to send me a note saying "there's all this outdated stuff on the site"!) Grrrrrr.

Oh, yeah ... you want to know "why is Brendan up at this hour? Hey, dude, don't you have to get up momentarily?" yep. All the more reason to beat the bitch's teeth down her esophagus ... this was the only time I had to get to uploading some damn updates!

Anyway, since I was up, here's another poem for y'all ... click on that handy LJ-cut thing, OK?

Visit the BTRIPP home page!

                    SWIRLING OUT OF SEASON

                    the void maintains
                    the void envelops
                    we can not shift
                    beyond its bounds
                    we are bled
                    without containment
                    drained of essence
                    without reserve

                    swirling nightmares
                    and storms enfold
                    no cessation
                    no clear escape
                    we fall down
                    to lower bases
                    dimmer stasis
                    fading grey

                    somehow it seems
                    there was some error
                    some broken point
                    which wrecked the line
                    all things are wrong
                    yet subtly shifted
                    where nothing works
                    or flows or moves

                    every item
                    so misplaced
                    guiding markers
                    scrambled now
                    we can not tell
                    which context harbors
                    the truer path
                    and which the dream

                    lost within
                    this common setting
                    no way to gauge
                    the year or day
                    the month or season
                    or incarnation
                    cast adrift
                    no way to face

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp

visit the BTRIPP home page

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