To eat, or not to eat? Certainly, to eat. Whether on or off beat, these words, in flowing rank, a fleet, have clearly stated that, “Yes, to eat.” What would life be without any meat? (Or treats?) Like legs without feet or chairs without seats, lives without “eats” would their ends soon meet. Ah, but to tweet?
What should I say? This one’s not quite as clear. I start leaning one way – then comes hesitant fear. To tweet thrice a day may put good minds in gear, so long as those tweets don’t say, “Hey, let’s drink beer.” Share the link of the day ’bout a post-modern mirror. Tweet about cheese soufflé; see the cooking fans cheer. But soon my mind stays; Twitter’s brevity leers. How much can one convey when one-forty’s so near?
Up the skeptical comes beating skeptical drums. Boom – it’s so limited. Boom – where’s the run? Boom – I can’t live with it. Boom – cramped’s no fun.
I get it: some like it, but it won’t do for me. I seek meaning, not thought crusts – depth, preferably. I seek air wide to pilot – healthy room to be free.