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, June 26, 2011

182
Sonnets From Other Lives: The Drug War

They have a warrant they don’t have to knock.
Y’hear a crash & O shit—there they are.
Imperial Storm Troopers smash your locks
& put machine guns in your face. Bizarre.
All I get from my poor hungover brain
is -I think I just saw this on TV.
They’re all yelling pointing guns & it’s insane
but real—y’know? & I’m thinking
WTF? They’re screaming --Where’s the shit?
& pulling out drawers--tearing up the place.
They find a quarter ounce of pot. That’s it.
Then this cop comes in—a weird look on his face--
& looks anxiously around at all the mess.
Turns out that they got the wrong address.
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