a poem for today

a poem for today, 9 March 2012

[a syllable sorted sonnet of 12 sentences and its image]

If I told you my secrets you'd never look at me the same again.

I'd like a life-sized pizza.

Come here till I punch you.

But I'm terrible at it.

I’m not interested in work that is polite or work that is "nice."

Take these shackles off of me.

I don’t have a career plan. 

So does this qualify as a break-through.

I am consumed by beauty.

It speaks but doesn't know what it is saying or whether you are listening.

I thank God I was raised Catholic, so sex will always be dirty.

Ditto, I'd rather be bald.