Compulisve Alliteration Alledgedly Linked to Letters Competeing

[Guest guest]

This thinking and reading and hearing in poem,

measures my madness with mind metronome.

 

As i ritually count out each iamb like sheep,

their homonym hooves tap a euphony beat.

 

My breath slows from tercets, to couplets, and then,

i cover up gently my head's fountain pen.

 

And just as i've rephrased my thoughts down to sleep,

a simile boldly extends in conceit.

 

Sylvia's whispers from night throats that bleed,

spooks all my stanzas who bolt and stampede.

 

Rewrites of sonnets who break from tradition,

insist that i listen to each one audition.

 

Night after night as my madmen give readings,

and lines of dead poets will not quit repeating,

 

i get one poem closer to drafting complete,

an elegy death for my self and my poetic sheep.

 

 

Love,

Mazie

 

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