What it is

June 2010: In a desperate attempt to stave off senility, the monkey began writing a poem a day. By summer's end he'd begun to run out of versified political rants and philosophical bloviations. Then he hit on the improbable idea of writing micro fiction in the form of Elizabethan sonnets. Eureka. The birth of the "Sonnets From Other Lives" series. Two hundred plus lives later, he's still at it.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

9/8
Sonnets From Other Lives: Peter

The foot sticks out, so I'm obliged to trip
with a convincingly humiliating fall.
Much as I'd rather throw a double flip
over his head and scramble up the wall...
Ah, but I've run the thought experiments.
(& it is thinking that's keeping me alive).
When I compute the causes and effects,
someone who matters to me always dies.
Tonight I'll swing above the city's canyons,
stand vigil on St. Patrick's tallest spire,
battle mutant thugs and their companions,
then rescue someone's baby from a fire.
But for now I sprawl and make this bully's day,
as the girl I love, embarrassed, looks away.
Posted by at

1 comment:

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)