Y'know...

I have 30 semester undergrad hours I dedicated to the study of literature. And I still can't remember what to call this kind of every-other-line-rhyming. (Besides "Hallmark card"-ish. Maybe that's good enough. Oh, but I do still intend to bother my professor of literature father for the answer tomorrow.) Poetry-wise, I'm at my best when I'm not so neat- not careful at all. I'm going to have a dirty martini and head on back to feeling my way...