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 6, 2010

12/6
Sonnets From Other Lives: Deets

All I want’s a quiet place t’sleep.
It aint like I’m tryin t’be a pain
I’m not crazy & I ain’t no kind of creep
I’m just tryin t’get out of the rain
& this doorway’s dry & no one’s comin by
‘til eight AM when Doris opens up
& she just says good morning & then I
pack my bindle & go get a cup
of coffee at McDonalds—sit & wait
until the library opens its doors
& I can lose myself among the great
writers--think I’m not a bum no more.
So if you’d just get that light out of my eyes
officer, I’d like to go to sleep alright? Good night.
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