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.

Monday, December 13, 2010

12/13
Sonnets From Other Lives: Jefferson

Supermarket closed a month ago--
two years to the day after the mill
shut down. Now this old town’s left with no
real reason to be on a road map. Still
folks hang on to what they used to, but
you don’t see young folks stickin round no more.
They’re all gone & sure if I wised up
myself I’d prob’ly walk right out that door.
But roots go deep & then they hold you down
& there you are & whatcha gonna do?
Everything I am is in this town—
Ain’t no place else I’m good for goin to.
Won’t be long before all us is dust.
& this is good as any place to rust.
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