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, July 16, 2011

5
Sonnets From Other Lives: Peter

The foot sticks out, so I'm obliged to trip,
drop my book, make a convincing fall.
I would so rather launch a double flip
over this jerk and scramble up the wall
&… never mind. I've run the thought experiments,
(for it is thinking that's keeping me alive).
When I compute causes and their effects,
somehow someone that I love always dies.
Tonight I'll swing above the city's canyons,
stand vigil on St. Patrick's tallest spire,
battle mutant villans and their minions,
then rescue someone's baby from a fire.

But first I sprawl and make this bully's day,
as the girl I love, embarrassed, looks away.
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