March 19, 2013

  • AN IMPLIED CRITIQUE OF KILMER

    I think I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree

    I’m unhip to any script with more buzz than a bee

    I ‘ve never seen an eagle that was bald-faced as a lie

    Nor was any essay I have spied as bright as fireflies

    No one ever wrote a note as well-read as a beet is

    No rumor’s near as scorching as August’s brutal heat is

    No volumes of prehistory appear in pouches upon wallabies

    Or Newsweeks in the yellow beaks of any birds of paradise

    I don’t believe that sailors speak any saltier than a clam

    And nary a bear was e’er compared to a lover’s candy-gram

    I’ve never found a frescoe as sumptuous as a feast

    Or met a metaphor sans flaws; the end, to say the least.

Comments (1)

  • I'll for give you for wallabizing.  Unless, that is, paradisiac rhymes with aphrodesiac.

    (I jest lightly, of course.  Your work never fails to delight me.)

Comments are closed.

Post a Comment