Monday, 23 April 2007
Time to go home, Harlot.
By the Bee Gees.
When your words are wrong and your sentence long,
When subclauses flow and you can't say no.
The phrases swell
And noone loves a
When you're so intense but it makes no sense,
When your paragraph is a dead giraffe
You just have to edit,
Or noone will
Try to geddit.
Word by word,
There's a burning down inside of me,
Burning pain with a yearning that won't let me be.
Down goes my pen
And I just can't take it all alone.
I really loathe this editing, editing
When apostrophes bring you to your knees,
When you insist that it's "its" not "it's".
It's hard to bear
Of "they're" and "their".
When you go to lop down la Malaprop
When you roll your eyes and italicise,
When it's just not right
Unless they use
Chicago-style to cite.