The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten

Patchy Sonnet

Crumple all my papers under

bellies hungry for a scratch;

feel & hear your dormant thunder

while you ready paws to snatch

jackets trying to pass by.

But I know you always flee

from the wall-clung fly-fast lights,

even though just made by CDs.

Playing poker, you beat me;

now I need to pay the fee:

scratch your chin eternally.

Posted in Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry