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.

Friday, July 23, 2010

7/23

bemoaning the body's betrayal
I note a crow posed
on the rail
of the deck outside
the kitchen door

hungry for portents
I look on--
a shrug,
an acrid call
from a blood red mouth
& it's gone

resisting the easy metaphor
I'd still be cool with nevermore
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1 comment:

  1. P. A .HofmannAugust 16, 2010 at 4:48 PM

    Grasping for metaphors in a pretty restricted day to day existence here...

    ReplyDelete

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