This is one of my earliest pieces, I hope you like it:
Hither, hither, love
'Tis a shady mead
Hither, hither, love!
Let us feed and feed!
Hither, hither, sweet
'Tis a cowslip bed
Hither, hither, sweet!
'Tis with dew bespread!
Hither, hither, dear
By the breath of life,
Hither, hither, dear!
Be the summer's wife!
Though one moment's pleasure
In one moment flies
Though the passion's treasure
In one moment dies;
Yet it has not passed
Think how near, how near!
And while it doth last,
Think how dear, how dear!
Hither, hither, hither
Love its boon has sent
If I die and wither
I shall die content!
Keats is not dead! Him and Elvis are currently residing in Area 51.
Don't you folk read the newspapers in line at the grocery store?
Damn, here I thought he washed up on the shore of that isolated, unmapped island that has the Challenger astronauts. They survived, you know, and swam for it.
You're thinking of the show "Lost", which, by the way, is a reality show.
No, the Challenger folk were shipped back, piece by piece, to Area 51 with Keats, Elvis, and some of the Bermuda Triangle pilots. Every Friday is "Music Night", and Saturdays Keats does poetry improv at the base bar.
Professor McCauliffe teaches during the week. Just this past semester Elvis passed his Physical Therapy training. His final exam paper was on hip strengthening, the exercises with which he finally was able to conquer that horrible hip movement that, oddly enough, sent all the women in a tizzy so many years ago.
He's drug-free, by the way.
See? I'm not lying. Chef knows.
Sure do. I see him alla time. Nice fella actually.
Wait! You see hiim?
How come I don't see you? Let's see: shuffleboard at ten, followed by group manicure's and a long lunch...no, don't recall seeing there...
...playing the ponies--early afternoon. Playing WITH the ponies (that's the King and I's phrase for the girls they send us every day), then dinner.
Early evening massage, night-cap with the ponies--pick yer poison--I love Amber(she's my shuffleboard partner, so it works out well in the morning)>
That's Mondays...I don't...Hell, are you the gal we see at dinner?
Tech Moddess AKA Danger Kat ;)
And here I thought that the King was alive and well in Kalamazoo....go figure!
Oh, yes! You were the one with the carrot stuck in her--you WERE there! I ate that carrot up. All the way in...finger-licking good! Elvis could only sit back and stare. He never was much at going down on women. Looking down at them, maybe. Why, I remember when we were at the cantina at 51, and he was doing 'Blue Suede Shoes' for the crowd, and no one was allowed on stage with him. They had to be off the stage, down in front.
I got a lot of tail that night, and he had to settle for...never mind. He's a friend.
Think I'll go over to the Hot Babes section with Plow while you guys watch the King.
Yup, I'm the carrot girl. I like the carrot cause it matches my hair. *fluffs her red hair*
I had snuck on stage and got caught. The carrot was supposed to be my punishment. But I kinda liked it.
Yeah, we thought you would. We planned that.
That's what Jim told me.
Morrison you know. We're buds. He talks about you all the time too.
Now you blew it! We can mention Elvis, but not Jim. Also, Janis, Buddy, and--shoot! Now you've got me started. The G-men will be coming for me now.
*Shhhh* whisper.
Did you know that JM told me he's tired of people pissing on his grave? He said people come over there, drink whiskey and then piss on his grave. He said he'd rather have it unfiltered.
