Paeans - and Aches

over the years

Saturday, May 28, 2005

Summer Sonnet

Like corporate annual reports,
Odes to summer, are, I confess,
Not among my favourite thoughts;
They’re things I write under duress.
But having decided I would write one,
I sit, sweating, with pursed lips,
Should I make it funny, a light one?
Glib, nonsensical, even—gasp—flip?

(Alas I’m using up the quota
of lines the classic sonnet permits.
I wouldn’t mind if it was shorter.
A full fourteen lines can be the pits.
Only two more lines? What a bummer!)
Oh well. Here’s my poem: I hate summer.

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