Got into an argument with Avus. VR says the tendency is hard-wired and I should be ashamed of myself. Somehow an idea spilled out.
Sonnet – A voice transformed
My voice trapped on tape an aeon ago
Emerged down my nose, that vulgar outlet.
Lacking in comfort sound whined high and slow,
Pitched for complaint and brassy bar-chat.
A brake on all hope of sociable gain,
A fig for my thoughts so poorly expressed,
Loving yet loveless, for whining’s disdain,
The warmth of my breast remained unconfessed.
Late comes an option and blazingly right,
My whine takes on notes which others have set,
The words are improved, the rhythm delight,
Impulses gallop without let or fret.
My songs are unheard but, hey, do I care?
Those names! Holy names! That shine in fame’s glare