a poem for today, 19 July 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of thirteen sentences and its image]
She loved butterflies.
I was miserable.
You're like a nonplayer character in this household.
I love the way you walk and that you take it slow.
Let's assume that they started at the Opera House.
When I died, I had to go through the whole thing myself.
It means that questions must be raised.
I’ve certainly worried about my kinks in the past.
There are no two ways about it.
Our drinks come and his is manlier than mine.
Who else has keys to this room.
Love, no, I took the cure.
Have a wonderful day unless you’ve made other plans.