[Writingworkshop] Hate Crime

[Neale Morison]

Please tell me more about the problems. This is what I want to hear.
This one started with the title, and the thought of chardonnay sipping 
visitors to an art gallery in which one of the exhibits is a chained 
starving dog. The snug line was a fortuitous side-effect.
I've been putting the most recent draft of all these verses on my web site
 http://www.nealemorison.com/writing/poetry/#hatecrime
As soon as I put it up I saw a few things I wanted to fix.


Daniel Peters wrote:
> This is a little below standard for you man.  You simply turn out way 
> too much good poetry.   maybe it was a rhyme scheme that was a little 
> too restrictive.  Actually....I think the whole thing was just built 
> as a vehicle to carry the line "snug as a bug in a rug on a drug." 
> Which would be awesome if true.
>
> On 4/12/08, *Neale Morison* <neale at nealemorison.com 
> <mailto:neale at nealemorison.com>> wrote:
>
>
>     Hate Crime
>
>     2008-04-12
>
>     Look at you sipping and dripping and lipping,
>     And cheering and sneering and jeering and leering,
>     So very self-satisfied, endlessly smug,
>     And snug as a bug in a rug on a drug.
>
>     And look at your fashion and look at your bling,
>     Look at your bracelet and look at your ring,
>     Look at your cellphone and look at your car,
>     Look at your face as you drink at the bar,
>
>     Look at your fingernails, look at your hair,
>     Nothing can touch you and force you to care,
>     Nothing can open your eyes to the light,
>     To the fright of the sight of the plight of the night,
>
>     When will you wake to the world you destroyed,
>     To the horror that yawns in the depths of the void?
>     Nothing can pierce through your bulletproof hide,
>     To the softness and moistness and pinkness inside.
>
>     Look in the mirror. A glimpse of a face,
>     The fleet-footed fear of a frozen embrace,
>     What is the fate you are helpless to see?
>     You see your reflection but fail to see me.
>
>     Cloaked in a cloud, camouflaged and concealed,
>     I am invisible, never revealed,
>     I am the terror that seizes your mind,
>     I am the footsteps that echo behind.
>
>     --
>     Neale Morison
>     neale at nealemorison.com <mailto:neale at nealemorison.com>
>     http://www.nealemorison.com
>     31 Maple Ave #2, Cambridge MA 02139
>     +1 617 460 9969
>     nmorison at mit.edu <mailto:nmorison at mit.edu>
>
>
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-- 
Neale Morison
neale at nealemorison.com
http://www.nealemorison.com
31 Maple Ave #2, Cambridge MA 02139
+1 617 460 9969
nmorison at mit.edu