FILE: B-
DATE: 2020-08-20
ARCHIVE: 2020-09-04
(c) Copyright Brett Paufler

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I have a desire to move to short form writing ala Charles Bukowski (assuming that is how you spell his name) of "Don't Try" Fame.

One of my recent Rants is (in my opinion) quite the poem.  This one is not.  It is scrap.

If I do enough of these, which seems unlikely, I will start a new spur called ./poems.  But for now, these sort of things will reside in ./notes.

More than art, poetry, or even words worth reading or remembering, this represents my inability to scrap the dead wood more than anything else.

But then, one never knows.

And upon re-reading (which maybe I should do prior to writing these context setting introductions), it's not that bad.  In fact, it has a certain flair.

But then, that doesn't mean it's good enough to post anywhere else.  Or maybe, good enough isn't the right wording.  I don't know what else to do with it, but wish to be done with it.  So, here is shall land.

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Ballerina
High Heel
Platforms

Make 'em Black
w/ Leather & Studs

Tiptoe Walking
That's The Thing

Gentle Rise
Get The Right Angle
And Come Down Hard

Tittering Unease
Pushed To Exhaustion
Unsteady
Shaken

Can't Be Helped
That's The Thing

Punishment Expected
Punishment Assured 
Punishment Not Really

That's My Thing
That's One Thing
For Sure