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, April 13, 2011

Sonnets From Other Lives: Alyss & Kurt

He runs by the cafe every Thursday morning--
6:15--the highlight of her day.
Making coffee drinks for six hours can get boring--
then--right on schedule--he’s coming her way.
In her mind he’s naked as a kouros
long hair riding the air--those monk-like eyes…
A brief moment of mental rigor mortus--
if just once he stopped & came inside…
But he is in his zone--bound for the bay--
along Marina--the Presidio--
then home & shower--start his working day.
He’s thinking--Thursdays, running by Roma Espresso
he keeps seeing this cute girl at the bar.
He should stop in--but hasn’t yet so far.
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1 comment:

  1. Pat LichenApril 13, 2011 at 11:22 PM

    Oh, stop, oh stop! (I mean the runner, not you, monkey!)

    ReplyDelete

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