Ten minute verse



The limerick packs laughs a bit anatomical
The hyena forestells disasters astronomical
The hermit sees shows that are not so comical,
The blowtorch makes glass that is curved or conical.

What happened to the moment of limit, not limited
by greed or shape or sudden inhalations, some primitive
wishing for Jesus or Joseph or Mary
or Bill ‘O or Monroe or rich guys who nary
a word said against them are nonetheless wrong or words
said against them are strong in the long
run where there is no fortress no mercy no song
where whatever there is, is where rope may be hung
on a cassock, a limb, on a boat, where he clings,
where the deep gapes its maw, like a song that he sings
a song like a cris, like a prayer, like a dirge, like a bell
that is ringing, clanging, as day runs to a well
of night, of night, of light that fades and well it fades

Smooth, grey, velvet rays darkening in times astronomical
the hermit lights the lamp in a night long and comical
the blowtorch makes glass that is curved or conical,
a limerick packs laughs a bit anatomical.


 (ten minute freewrite at the end of a busy night of writing)


1 Response to “Ten minute verse”

  1. 1 wordgauntlet March 14, 2009 at 4:00 pm

    Ten minutes, huh? Your voice is so fluid. I posted my ten minute diddy, too.

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