My fourteenth sonnet, with its fourteen lines:
A sonnetversary, a sonic trek
Through rhyming tricks enough to stymie Ein-
Stein. Regular timing pegs you; check
Each five beats, I beg you. Aren’t my feats fine?
They ain’t too big, Fats - they is meant to make
The universe small. Not puny verse, mine:
Even a light heart can enlighten. Wake,
And really look through this old telescope:
Far distant times and present instants seen
In just one glance! I wonder: must one hope
For modern ways, always? I’ve trodden clean
Away. Now see how I can boldly go
Where many men have gone before? And so…
Mon 18 Sep 2006
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