Monday, June 4, 2012

Sonnet 53 -- Masses of Asses Ruin the Classes

Sonnet 53 -- Masses of Asses Ruin the Classes
A nonsense sonnet for a nonsense world
Where the usual is skewed and rotten
The poetry is not sung but is hurled
And probably should be best forgotten
The game is almost over and I choked
The audience went home without applause
Too old and grey and crippled to be poked
All opportunity did slip my paws
Comfort no longer comforts this artist
Security becomes a limp penis
Less than poet, I am just a fartist
And do I honestly really mean this?
Forcing my rhymes with a hammer of sledge
I think that I’m firmly over the edge


  1. What's a limp penis?

  2. Actually,I need to get more relaxed and open writing so I try to use words like this...and then find a rhyme..