Love is a minimalist construct, granted—
with its “ensuing domestic bliss” &
I could be in love even w/ a heavy person
here in the day slam mulching my options
I’ve matured—OK! OK!
do the two salad dressings come w/
the fishloaf or the hot baloney
b/c I’ve got the scurvy & needs mount
all right?—so I’ll cop to the mint patties &
I’ll cop to the activator & mango butter
(those were not for me!) (I owed a pacific person)
but the duffelbag of STIM-U-DENTS
were a gift from my dentist—hey man
it’s a matter of life & breath!
[NaPoWriMo Sonnet #5. Too, see: How to Read Poetry (for Dummies).]
No comments:
Post a Comment