The Poet

The Poet

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Truest Of True Confessions by Ronald S Porter ©2017

Oh! I would to dance like Narziss
in the midst of the plague.
Or eat anchovies with prostitutes,
abed, abroad, in the Hague.
I am as confused as if in a meat
market, and I was a blind dog.
Why does Plague rhyme with Hague 
yet Prague pronounces like hog?
Such observations I find to be
for me very much didactic
Just to conform to the general norm
I believe it would be Prague-matic
To evade detection of the skew
in my way of view, I employ this tactic.
Thus I'll avoid being stopped
then questioned and, locked
in the attic of some insane asylum.

No comments:

Post a Comment