17 December 2005
Strain A Page To Wreak A Rhyme
Would you believe it – I’ve found
that poetic flatus profound who
leaves Wm Topaz McGonagall flat.
Now fancy that in this modern age, a
poet who can gracefully strain a page
to wreak a rhyme with compleat and
sublime indifference as to how it looks
or sounds.
Blasé, ‘penny a pound’ arrangement of
this unique and contrived verse is creaky
(to say the least) and it squeaks in the
corners where Topaz would square the
rhythm neatly, but what the heck,
it works. And there, in the corner of my
eye, I see daring structural anomalies –
a line of dashes, crosses and holy cow,
contiguous spaces with abbreviated
cases of multiple redundancies – what
now! What next!
A penchant for text alignment
as sheer as Mt St Helens is steep
as drear as the tears that weep
from the precipice to the abyss
but this verse just flipped me off
egregiously!
© I.D. Carswell 2007-02-07
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