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<livejournal>
<entry>
<itemid>176802</itemid>
<eventtime>2017-03-03 10:07:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2017-03-03 15:07:30</logtime>
<subject>P&P Part 1 - Entail</subject>
<event>
by Emmit Other It is all well and good For well meaning men To perform well meaning actions To ensure an ordered society Primogenature is a messy affair And it cares for the whole At the expense of the many One example among many Of a thing that considers not at all The consequences it would have On those whose lives it would ruin Arbitrarily deciding winners and losers For the sake of estates As if they were living things Of a comparison in value To those that lived in it A home is just a pile of stones But for the people living in it And while a place can have value Well beyond those who are in it Like Temples and Theaters and schools But a home Any home Even 10 Downing Street Must first serve those who live in it The Entail was a lingering shame on the empire Long before they truly understood the folly of colonialism As a woman What it meant to be a piece of extraneous furniture It broke many hearts And slew through poverty This patchwork doom Made their flesh property to be bargained with And thus shamed not only England But all of us.
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</entry>
<entry>
<itemid>176896</itemid>
<eventtime>2017-03-05 16:02:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2017-03-05 21:02:51</logtime>
<subject>Pride 2-Strange Hatred</subject>
<event>
by Emmit Other The indignity Saying she did not merit his attention Such vexation She did not understand or comprehend She hated it And hated him An irrationality she did not understand The pulsing of her heart And the racing of her pulse It was vexation It was anticipation He was rich And he could never understand the afflictions Of one who lived in bondage such as her Not that she did of course She would do what she wanted So long as she could But the Entail was always there Lurking in her mind The twittering words of her mother So afflicted for their fortunes It was only at peace When she had some knowledge that she was acting on it What a fury she felt at him The arrogance of the man To so casually dismiss her To so casually dismiss all she was She hated him She hated him so much she wouldn't even think about him Much.
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<entry>
<itemid>177377</itemid>
<eventtime>2017-03-30 14:53:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2017-03-30 18:53:22</logtime>
<subject>
Pride and Poetry 3 - Ode to the Flibbertigibbet by Proxy
</subject>
<event>
by Emmit Other What wax of grace doth her pale face now protest? Can a conclave of lesser grace be so beheld in one family by truth? By troth, I look and see My virtue does not deny me And while honor demands a shred of Christian empathy Station shields me any obligation to blow its embers. A toxic storm of lace and doilies Harrow on my somber soul I see with eyes no dew encumbered No throbbing ember in heart's fire coal Off key Homilee Vexatious virtue ployed in praise of the virtueless A matronly harpy of such shrill to crack Gibraltar Only one gem among them And she eyes me like the Furies She is not gorgeous enough to stun the senses I admit something in my imagination's reach Intrigues in daydreams I dare not acknowledge There is a spark And then it is gone And I am gone And that is the end of the matter. Or so I thought. She is perhaps not as useless as I had hitherto thought. There is there there. The wit, I must admit, impresses. A gem among turds. I mayhap must reconsider. If only she would stop simpering about Wickam. That dastardly filth. He shall rue. He shall rue indeed.
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</livejournal>
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