Monday, May 02, 2005

Lame five-minute pseudo-sonnet. Don't laugh too hard

I think I'm going to go back to my roots
start writing formal poetry, the stuff
that got me into print in the first place, boot
my butt back onto lyric land, huff and puff
my way back into the arms of Erato.
I've been away too long, poor Penelope
waiting on the strand, hoping to
glimpse my barque on the horizon. Me
I've been goofing off, having pretend adventures
"discovering" my cool new computer
but now I'm 40, I've got to wear my dentures
like a man. And if I want her
to stay, I'd better start living up to the hype—
I could lose a hand tomorrow and never again be able to type.


Aisha said...

You are nuts!
Talk about mid-lief crisis.

I did. I laughed too hard.
The rhyme of hype and type was too much for a fifty-year old :)

Cool indeed, very self-ironic.

Carol said...

Love your " five-minute pseudo-sonnet." And I much prefer the very smooth arrangement of the words to a stilted but metrically perfect one. This was fun to read aloud. Your Penelope must be thrilled.

"[B]oot/ my butt back onto lyric land," hah!


Peter Garner said...

Aish, Carol, thanks for stopping by. And, yes, thanks for laughing. RT

Aisha said...

I wasn't laughing as in this is silly, more in surprise at the our-day Odyssevs and the litote of 'lose a hand' -- instead of die young