Thursday, June 7, 2012


     Though I have gained some mastery in this art
     Of sonnetry, by sticking to my last
     And turning verses out, day after day,
     Sometimes I’ll put the horse behind the cart
     If only, now and then, to flabbergast
     Your expectations and show another way
     This supple form can metamorphose to
     Adapt, as if it were organic and
     Alive, inventing ventures never planned
     While doing what no other form could do,
     Such as, as if to get another view,
     So you might then more clearly understand,
     Invert itself, flip over on command,
     A trick contrived just for impressing you.