Oooh dear

I survived! A series of serendipitous events transpired to transport me safely and securely to the secluded hiding-place of the Hyde Park Arts Center, where poetry and prose were presented, finally fulfilling my final functions for my pester people pesky persistent poetry program.

Afterwards, attracted by the allure of a Wii, I wandered west...east (geography thwarts me, woe; whatever, I will will myself to perceive pleasure in the partial rhyme) to the apartment of an acquaintance. Inside, issuing countless complaints on the sad state of contemporary poetry (paradoxical, nonlinear, nonsensical), I (a literary trope now considered passed/past its heyday, hereby honorifically and heretically (vis-a-vis the hearsay of the poetical hegemony) bestowed upon the author's singular self) intoned "Hey wait, you have Zelda. Were you trying to hide that from me?"

Wonderful engrossing Wii. Entertaining, withholding escape. Bewitching. Evil? Want.

Egad my eyebrow aches still. Stupid wall. Dark room with dark walls does warrant due caution, but due caution duly ignored defines incommodious injury. Concussion, undoubtedly, compels me upon this confusing and altogether over-alliterative poetical path.

Free of filters, I second the supplication for spam. Reviews require it. Prynne's preposterous poetry versus the valueless. Ulimate battle undone barring helpful hints henceforth. Please?

Post Script: "Caduceus on a Plane"? Trauma Center: Second Opinion in localization, or lingering potent pop-culture crossover?