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.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

12/7
Sonnets From Other Lives: Aristotle

Found this stump farm off the Skoocumchuck
Real Estate guy thought that I was nuts.
But it was cheap & so was this old truck
& that’s how I got out of my old rut
& finally left the rat race to the rats.
I’ve found my own decrepit hidey hole—
this sagging cabin. Now I reckon that’s
where I aim to drown my sorry soul
& distilled spirit. Everybody hurts
uniquely. I think creativity
is finding your way to your just desserts
& living with certain uncertainties—
like how an author finds a story’s end
or when the darkness finally closes in.
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