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.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

11/27
Sonnets From Other Lives: Anon.

The first death really wasn't hard at all--
at seven weeks he went to sleep & stayed.
But now he anticipates the fall
& catches himself measuring his days.
He once bled out at thirty thousand feet.
At other times he has succumbed to cancer,
meningitis, stroke, & HIV.
There are questions for which he would like an answer.
i.e.. Why the weird surfeit of memory?
How many lives can fit into one head?
Wherefore this circle of absurdity?
When is his next rendezvous with death?
He passes churchyards with a rueful smile--
denied the easy solace of denial.
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)