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, November 9, 2011

211
Sonnets From Other Lives: Mac & Marti

Well that was awkward. Mac closes the door.
Gawd. What was she thinking? Marti sighs-
collapsing on the sectional. No more
dinner parties with that woman. I
can’t deal with the squirm factor . I try--
but when she gets so drunk like that & hits
on every hominid that bears a y
chromosome… Tom laughs & goes & gets
the lone surviving bottle of red wine.
Here love. Drink up & tell us all about it.
Marti takes the proffered glass. I find
it all so bloody sad. Then as he sits
down & starts to rub her feet, she adds,
All the poor dear wants is what we have.
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