There once was a time I attempt to right a sonnet,
but as it began to form I felt the urge to vomit.
Rhyming is so overrated and foolish and clunky
But not when it alternates, that's when it's funky.
But I had no direction, just one starting image
and here is the work that I dare not finish:
to signal the start of the renaissance.
On the roof is a kid catching a toke
attempting to recall hearing the response.
He sends his call down the square cylinder
as birds chirp eagerly 'round his blazed mind.
There's no steady beat, that's the first fault of it all.
Using the word renaissance, oh I had such balls.
What is the white smoke and why is he smoking it?
What am I, connecting to a college crowd? Yeah that would be it.
So this is my cop out I'm sending you cause I have integrity.
I'd rather give you a poem parody than absurdity .
Word.
[Poem week continues tomorrow...
with a much better product.
This I guarantee.]
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