Random Poetry

Saw this in a forum, and enjoyed it much too much.

A man said to the universe:
“Sir I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”

–Stephen Crane

It seemed apropos, since my latest Elfwood comments had quite a charmingly enraged description of the torment I would suffer after death for my childish and pathetic hatred of God. I swear, that’s the main reason I keep the Elfwood gallery around. It’s so impossible to update that I rarely bother any more, but the enraged comments are like little jewels. Sure, I feel the nostalgia–it was my first on-line gallery, and I love it still, but truly, I could never abandon the gallery that gave me “I despise the arrogant wombat.”

DA just doesn’t compare. At most, people will politely disagree with my view, or leave the “ur stuf sux” comment variety. These little comments are like seeds, or pehaps eggs. You could fit a hundred of them on the head of a pin. Someday, I dream that they will germinate, or pupate, or whatever, and a tiny troll will emerge, and spread fragile little wings, gossamer and glistening in the pale morning air, and climb with teeny hooves up to the top of its little stalk of grass. And the gentle forum breeze will dry the wings of the baby troll, and it will blink huge, innocent eyes up at the young sun, as the grass stem sways, and at last it will open its (large in proportion, but still small) mouth, and the morning will gleam on its miniature tusks, and it will bellow “lol!!!1!” and David Attenborough will do a voice-over about the cycle of nature and we will weep for the sheer glory of the internet and the beauty of new life.

See, this is why I should stop at ONE cup of coffee in the morning…

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