I've always been fascinated by the challenge of creating poetry that wants to escape out of your mouth and be read out loud – think Dr. Seuss meets Chaucer. Well, at least half way.
What better form than the sonnet? Shakespeare has a whopping 154 of them. How hard can this be?
For the answer to that burning question, you'll have to open the book. You'll also encounter a time traveling paradox, a noir caper, a series of letters to the editor, and the answer to numerous existential questions.
A hundred and fifty four pages of poetry. I'll even throw in a few love poems.
But not a hundred and fifty four of them...
For that, you'll have to buy the sequel.
OPERA LOVERS
up on the stage a tenor, Nessun Dorma
the set a modern wonder, Turandot
if I could but remember the performer...
remembering the flowers I forgot
remembering the frigid intermission
the spent champagne and chocolates on a plate
you made excuses, needing no permission
lust mixing in with guilt; bell says we're late
no longer a duet, more a parlante
each part distinct, but sticking to the script
our rendezvous a scandal, in flagrante
devoid of feeling, naked, bare and stripped
no, not at all a coupling, more a sting
up on the stage, the lady starts to sing