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.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

237
Sonnets From Other Lives: Dan


Wake me when it’s over. I don’t think
this can be happening unless I am
asleep, but if I’m not, I’ll take that drink
you mentioned earlier.
For guys like Dan
the pure unvarnished truth should always be
administered with liquid anesthesia.
He’s wagered everything thinking that he
might get a break. Selective amnesia
blocked the déjà vu that should have warned him.
He’s been here too many times—right on the edge
of a good thing… Well it came up craps again.
Climb out a window? Stand out on a ledge?
Not to worry. Over time I’ve found
there’s always a way out. I call it: Down.

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