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, March 10, 2012

235
Sonnets From Other Lives: Ruth

Boys will be boys, my husband used to say
but that was while the boys were still alive.
He isn’t saying anything these days.
He was the one who taught them how to drive.
When the call came from the State Patrol,
& everything was shattered into shards,
& each of us was left with half a soul,
our continents began their drift apart.
The silence. The assessing of the blame.
We left our haunted house, moved to Carmel,
& changed everything except our names.
It’s such a pretty place, our little hell,
where I take some small comfort in knowing
I could walk into that ocean & keep going.
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