SUNDAY’S VILLANELLE: MARCH 2, 2014
Posted by admin on March 2, 2014 Blog | | No commentsThe Simpering Glance
If I was bobbing on a metaphysical river
my soul adrift between nonsense and wit
I’d reach out for a simper
And spirit that smile for many a mile thither
though my lips be drenched in wordy bullshit
if I was bobbing on a metaphysical river
posing “to be?” expositions, “or not?” expostulations I could not dissever
the solid from the wet and so, quite frankly, fuck it.
I’d reach out for a simper:
a silly, self-satisfied smirk as fretless as a zither
more likely to wax, then pilfered, pass in evanescent orbit
if I was bobbing on a metaphysical river
Wouldn’t cry out for a craft or reach back for a quiver
to launch a quill with life line fit
I’d reach out for a simper.
And hope, perchance, a stranger glanced to whom I mote deliver
and share together a simpering nod before I melt to quantum bits
If I was bobbing on a metaphysical river
I’d reach out for a simper.
