The September Sonnets: XV

if i could
i’d write sonnets
in dactyls
(even in Latin)
but sometimes i can’t tell
what should be
or short;
there’s no instance
of one man’s language resting
in peace in
Shakespeare’s homely
simple song.

dipthongs are unmanned,
for we in
Romulus’ realm
judge letters by
their place
their rank
their comrades
for they in
more copious times
wished strong vowels
only copulate with X’s and C’s
when at the helm
for (to them) vowels are pretty girls
who are nothing
without the hard strong crunch
of these sturdy lads

if i could make elision true
i’d sacrifice such trinkets
in the name of sound
my own namesake letter
would be left in
a scroll’s dust
for when such weakness comes
Ovid &
simply jumped around
to get to the end
with their potent words
in the people’s

i am an agent
for my tunic’s delight
how i wish
my sonnets
could be read by students eager
after night
after night
after night

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