L
Lance loved to linger over lacy lingerie, in lieu of lining lorries for a living. Lanky and languid, his laughter was lilting. Ill in Loire, he let himself be leeched, which alleviated his liver condition, and made him laugh.
Left alone in infancy in London, with only a lime and lilacs, lying in leather luggage, then raised by a Latin scholar and a librarian, he felt loved and learned all his life. He took to lighting the lamp in a long-lost, inland lighthouse, and died there alone. Not of lunacy nor lycanthropy, that was libel.
Land in the limelight
or lightly lace licorice
learn well all your life.
Left alone in infancy in London, with only a lime and lilacs, lying in leather luggage, then raised by a Latin scholar and a librarian, he felt loved and learned all his life. He took to lighting the lamp in a long-lost, inland lighthouse, and died there alone. Not of lunacy nor lycanthropy, that was libel.
Land in the limelight
or lightly lace licorice
learn well all your life.
Labels: alphabetical template essay
Posted by Zhoen on Wednesday, August 06, 2008
3 comments:
I recently came home from a trip to a big city, overstimulated. I walked into the yard and thought, why don't we have some sort of column around here, maybe of stacked stone, with a globe of light on top? It seemed a novel idea, but the seed must have come from all the sky scrapers and the flashing jumbotrons at the outdoor rock concert I had just been to. And now as I recall looking out above the crowd, there had been many fake moons, glowing white spheres made from and illuminated by what I don't know, that had caught my eye and caused to expect to really see a moon. It would only follow that I should expect to see the moon on a post when I arrived home.
When writing your alphabet posts you must be surprised by your memories. This is fun to read, I guess, because of the way it shakes out my memory and makes me work to stitch pieces together. It's easy work, sort of like the work my mind does with disparate scenes and non sequiturs just before I drift off to sleep -- but wait-- this post is much more rousing than that!
Wonderful story, thank you. I suspect that the limitations allow space for interpretations and expansion. I know as I choose words for their alliteration, they imply something different than I expect.
I'm afraid that I've presumed it understood that it was the "inland light house" in your piece that set me off. It is a fine, kooky notion. I'd have to do some research to find out if it's appropriate to call it sublime, but it very suitably describes the apparition that visited me. How strange that you could supply the name for it. Our culture must consist of a small number of ingredients if nonsense names for nonsense objects can so easily meet up. It's as though they are of the same manufacture. Are we so alike?
Here, far from any seashore, I can even think of the moon as an inland lighthouse when it pleases me. Thank you! I think you are scratching at something here. Call it the earth and the metaphor would have you digging furrows. After dark I come by with a light and find arrowheads by their white flash.
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