I'm sure that our huge and engaged audience was looking so forward to my previously alluded to Deep Blog; unfortunately, that post is stored pn my laptop whereas I am currently writing this on my phone. Alex, I understand your pain of writing on an iPod touch. It's possible but oh so very annoying... and... s l o w.
(Did I just use an obnoxious form of syntax to prove a point? Why yes I did! I'll go write an acrostic about it.)
'S been so long since I used you last
Y ou tempt me so; my grammatical other half
N ow I'm afraid I'll look like a fool
T hat's "idiot," mind you, not a burn log of yule
A t last, I've found my purpose in life:
X-celling in poetry with limited strife, WORD
I hope that was an acrostic poem. Heavan forbid that I forget all those thrird grade lessons in which we labored over poems shaped like raindrops, which at the time I thought were the Best Things Ever but that I know see as the result of a copy editor who had a little too much to drink. (For the record, my poem described the ways that writing was like water; how words quench the parched soul. I was a deep little eight year old.)
Do you want to read the poem I wrote in French today? It went something like:
le ciel, les autres choses
je sais pas
je ne me moque pas
pourquoi est-ce que c'est que tout ma poesie est merde?
Sorry if the articles are wrong. I can't look les mots up in a dictionaire right now; deal wiff it.