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St. Augustine While Ill
joy is a veneer
beach, sand, sea do not reach me
horror seeps right through
beach, sand, sea do not reach me
horror seeps right through
Haiku time! (Pedants need not bug me about whether this is actually a haiku—I'm just happy it meets the syllable pattern.)
I may not be interpreting this right, but it almost seems like a joke to be, juxtaposing the person and the city of the same name. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about the person to bring in any context that might help me understand it. Not that that's required—while it means I can't get full enjoyment out of it, poetry commonly does have these sorts of references that only some readers will get, and there's nothing wrong with that. It just means I'm missing the key that would give me the full picture.
I may not be interpreting this right, but it almost seems like a joke to be, juxtaposing the person and the city of the same name. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about the person to bring in any context that might help me understand it. Not that that's required—while it means I can't get full enjoyment out of it, poetry commonly does have these sorts of references that only some readers will get, and there's nothing wrong with that. It just means I'm missing the key that would give me the full picture.
>>Pascoite
St. Augustine in Hell
The ambiguity is my fault; this refers to the city in Florida, which I visited not long ago. I was sick in such a way that caused no external symptoms, but was sapping my energy and giving me a persistent feeling of bleak hopelessness.
I was able to shake it off after a few days, but in the meantime I was invited to the beach. Encouraged to take off my shoes, relax and enjoy myself, I could only stand there as tons of water rushed at me and the pulverized sand ground the calcinacious bones of sea life into useless powder.
Anyway, I usually try to subvert the darker prompts with positive interpretations, but this time I went with the flow a bit. Thanks for your patience.
St. Augustine in Hell
The ambiguity is my fault; this refers to the city in Florida, which I visited not long ago. I was sick in such a way that caused no external symptoms, but was sapping my energy and giving me a persistent feeling of bleak hopelessness.
I was able to shake it off after a few days, but in the meantime I was invited to the beach. Encouraged to take off my shoes, relax and enjoy myself, I could only stand there as tons of water rushed at me and the pulverized sand ground the calcinacious bones of sea life into useless powder.
Anyway, I usually try to subvert the darker prompts with positive interpretations, but this time I went with the flow a bit. Thanks for your patience.