Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #1
The Man You See (A Sonnet)
by Belinda Roddie
The man you see is half past nine and dead
along the streets of Washington and Post.
His hair is rather white, his big nose red
from snorting all the dust and city's ghosts.
When I first watched him sleeping where the hail
caught artists in its blust'ry canvas, I
could not help but predict that I'd set sail
upon the same sea where these authors die.
For poets like their booze and battle scars,
(so say the critics, bloated from their meal
of bloody Sauvignon and caviar)
but I stray from the gutters while I reel.
The writer that you see may be dirt poor,
but throw away your jewels - he has much more.
by Belinda Roddie
The man you see is half past nine and dead
along the streets of Washington and Post.
His hair is rather white, his big nose red
from snorting all the dust and city's ghosts.
When I first watched him sleeping where the hail
caught artists in its blust'ry canvas, I
could not help but predict that I'd set sail
upon the same sea where these authors die.
For poets like their booze and battle scars,
(so say the critics, bloated from their meal
of bloody Sauvignon and caviar)
but I stray from the gutters while I reel.
The writer that you see may be dirt poor,
but throw away your jewels - he has much more.
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