Wooster! Revisited

For those of you who have not yet discovered the pile of AWESOME that is the Wooster Collective, check out THIS LINK.
For those of you who have, check it out again. I guarantee that you will, at the least, crack an amused grin at some of the art on there, and at best, be offended by some of the graffiti.
I was digging round in an old notebook today, in this case, a pocket-sized graph-paper Moleskine, and, amongst the pieces of tawdry vers-libre and syrupy prose, I found this little gem.

Sonnet III
The blighted moon weaves, all a-tremble
With the warning of a wave,
Rise to sing for nuptial revels--
You have said I am your bane.
I have determined now, as then,
To love you less and trust you more
Until unfortunate events
Return me to your western shore.
Will you be loved, betrayed, or both
Upon my wisdom-wrought beachtide?
I pause now, ere I plight my troth
Unto your soporific pride.
Of your heart I am aware,
You could have me if you dared.
(finis)

I wrote that baby back in late September of last year, just before I vacated the Lone Star State. Dre, don't resent me cause I held back. So far as fixed verse goes, it's not bad, but it doesn't hold any of the strong sound and imagery that I usually utilise.
In other news, I have a propensity for both cutting and burning myself accidentally. Whenever I yelp in the kitchen, I swear, even Sinead is laughing at me, and she is the sweetest kitty of everyone's kitties.
Back to writing...I started putting 'Mockingbird' into fixed form, but I can't seem to grab hold of what I was feeling back then. I remember writing it, yes, walking down to the park at the end of the cul-de-sac with my MP3 player blasting 'Universally Speaking' into my ears, contemplating taking a walk down to the dunes beyond the forest and back, but for the life of me, I don't know what the hell I was feeling.
Maybe because I don't do a whole lot of feeling.
And maybe because I just don't care to rehash the little that I do.
Oh...here's another link for you.
The immortal Edward Gorey, and the Gashlycrumb Tinies.
Till next time, my lovelies.