April 24 2010

To Me in a Curt Pity

I am pretty. I count.
Court I my patient.
A curt pity—no time.
Put in a time to cry.
Me, I try to can it up.
Or I cut my patient.
React to impunity.
I to my aunt I crept.
Copy it in a mutter.
“Pure intimacy, tot.”
Cut a pity no merit.
Many to picture it.
May not picture it.
A minute pit to cry.
Time, act on purity:
Ripe, it may not cut.

A homage to Permutation City, made out of the same letters.