bookelfe:

thisnewdevilry:

animatedamerican:

bookelfe:

The time has come that some things must
be said.
The new year’s in. The seasons scurry
by.
I start to tire of ‘i lik the bred.’

All other forms of poetry are fled.
It’s
ABCB, ABCB – why?
The time has come that some things must
be said.

Innumerable variations read –
The calf, the cats, the goats and the
Radchaai –
I start to tire of ‘i lik the bred.’

I understand; it gets into your head
And, cowed, you think in iambs – as
do I.
The time has come that some things must
be said.

The bredlik ruled as king, and we were
led.
But spring returns, and now the king
must die.
We start to tire of ‘i lik the bred’

The moon may shine. Still, cows must go
to bed.
It will not be too hard to say goodbye
–
The time has come that such things must
be said.
I start to tire of ‘i lik the bred.’

A powet is I

And I gro sik

Uf al the bred

The nu kidz lik

So wen its tym

Tu storytel

I wryt my pees

I villanelle

well this was inevitable