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.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Sonnets From Other Lives: crash

when you have no choice you have no fear
did he just hear that on the radio?
everything so bright precise & clear
the details stand out strangely as he goes
sliding down the highway on his back:
sparks from the bike skidding on its side
his helmet grinding loudly on the tarmac
his amygdale--now in overdrive--
records every detail in slow motion
a broken bottle – white clouds of a mackerel sky
flash by--he notes it all without emotion--
the rushing concrete wall-- impending impact
surreal --he thinks --before it all goes black
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1 comment:

  1. Patricia LichenMay 7, 2011 at 2:15 PM

    This guy listens to the same radio program I do. It was a woman who said that first line, talking about an extraordinary rescue. I repeated it out loud when I heard it... I see it stuck with someone else too.

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