Herein Reside Various Expeditions Into Autobiographical Inanity:
Mellodrama Does Not Exist
Voice 1: I’m dying, O woe is me,
The light is fading fast,
My breath is stuck, I’m nigh undone,
This sigh could be my last.
A lethargy has gripped my limbs
And tangled ’bout my heart,
I’m feeling faint, my eyes are dim,
I fear we soon must part;
I don’t know why I’ve come to this,
Oh, how my Life’s been spent,
This day was like the other days,
Alack, my Spirit’s rent-
Voice 2: Just stop right there,
Not one more word,
I’ll solve this mystery.
The answer’s clear as crystal day,
Spelled out by history.
There’s Shakespeare on the counter-top,
And Opera in the hall,
There’re poems draining down the sink,
And films splashed on the wall.
Your journal’s spilling out with prose,
Your microphone’s unclipped,
Your hard drive’s full to bursting,
And your Cats are looking jipped.
There’re three empty latte cups
Cluttered ’round your seat;
You silly, foolish, Maddening Thing,
You just forgot to eat.
Voice 1: Oh. Let’s have dinner then.
Voice 2: You could start fixing food before I get home.
Voice 1: But I like eating with you. I didn’t know when you’d be back.
Voice 2: I come home the same time every day.
Voice 1: But I didn’t know what time it was.
Voice 2: Did you check the clock?
Voice 1: No.
Voice 2: I rest my case.
