This could be your “experiment”:
You ever have that problem where you start writing a poem but by the time you get to line 3 you ask yourself what the fuck are you doing, and why are you writing poetry?
[Is he going to be a nomad?]
[If you don’t want to shack up with him]
[I knew that’s what you were gonna say]
I mean that is a truly profound idea.
[Am I following?]
[Not quite]
You don’t even know what a sordid sad tale that is
[Maybe four glasses of wine
on a Tuesday night
wasn’t a good isea.
Idea. Wednesday.
Whatever.]
Well, I actually have to know them.
Well, take that idiotic shit out and I still would have known what you meant.
You ever have that problem where you start writing a poem but by the time you get to line 3 you ask yourself what the fuck are you doing, and why are you writing poetry?
[Is he going to be a nomad?]
[If you don’t want to shack up with him]
[I knew that’s what you were gonna say]
I mean that is a truly profound idea.
[Am I following?]
[Not quite]
You don’t even know what a sordid sad tale that is
[Maybe four glasses of wine
on a Tuesday night
wasn’t a good isea.
Idea. Wednesday.
Whatever.]
Well, I actually have to know them.
Well, take that idiotic shit out and I still would have known what you meant.
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