a poem for today, 12 June 2012
[a syllable sorted sonnet of ten sentences and its image]
Maybe she needs more punishment.
She didn't stand a chance.
I'm glad for her, because she deserves it.
She went straight home in a flood of tears, and a sedan chair.
She sounds like a chimpanzee on a tire swing.
Now, look at this sorry, miserable, squashed thing.
Then afterwards, when I would look back, she would look away.
Oh she thinks I'm too critical, that's another fault of hers.
I went back every night, same time, for two weeks, but she never showed up.
He wants to reach a place that does not exist until he touches it with his mouth.
No comments:
Post a Comment