| 14 hour days leave me weary. Oddly, there are fourteen lines in sonnets. So...it would follow that my day was like a sonnet. If it were an Italian sonnet, it would have had an eight-hour (or octave) long problem, followed by a six-hour (or sestet) long resolution. It it were a Shakespearean sonnet, the last two hours (or the couplet), would have featured a sharp, thematic turn. If it were Spenserian, all the hours would have been interlocking (except for the final couplet, of course). Now that I wrote this, I think I may be able to remember how to distinguish between the three types of sonnets. And just note, dear reader, that you have assisted me in this process. I will leave you with some Wallace Stevens. (I've been diligently studying for my upcoming GRE Lit exam...) Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be the finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet,
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. |
