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.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

162
Sonnets From Other Lives: Glen

His meeting is tomorrow. Glen steps out
for an evening walk. The drink can wait.
The hotel towers like a brave redoubt
among the ruins. Here & there the great
bones of the old city still protrude
through the noise of modern slap & dash
architecture--rotting in rude
ravages of rust. Before the crash
opera houses & assembly lines--
brick & mortar shrines to Capital--
thrummed with arias of better times.
He thinks he’ll have that drink now. He’s aghast
at his vision of the future in the past.
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)