No, I'll never be famous.
My less than voluminous
correspondence says: Thanks
for the socks. Congratulations
on your whatever. Please find
my cheque enclosed. Hardly
worth tucking away in an
attic or bottom desk drawer.
The famous seem to anticipate
the condition. Exercising their
gift of prescience, they conduct
a precocious correspondence
from an early age with natural
magpies. It smacks of some
arcane conspiracy; a gratuitous
stakeholding for the biography
industry. A symbiotic ‘noblesse
oblige' we ordinary mortals
will never understand.
2007-07-21
06:44:14
·
7 answers
·
asked by
northlookeagle
2
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry