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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