Sonnet for Christy, A Haiku, and an Obscene Narrative


                 Sonnet VX

With what words could I express the comely

Cascading of your silvered curls still golden?

How I wish to comfort and make you see

That I pay no heed to the thoughts of men

Or the three decades between our ages.

For what is life without wonder and reach?

What are young girls? Books with no pages.

They have much to learn and little to teach.

If this argument does not prove me true

And your strange doubts darken into despair

Remember your beauty the years will renew

And in my eyes you are forever fair.

Do not worry, love. Let the seasons bring

Songs old and new, to cherish, and to sing.

        Haiku V

My steps stir the wind

As my breath touches the leaves

The air becomes me

Our Dead Child 

Do you remember our darling Billy,

How with untied shoes he’d rove

And burn his tongue on the stove?

Remember the cup from which he drank

And the putrid growths that took his throat?

It was herpes, and that would denote

An origin from your hand and a place

I would rather not say in the presence

Of lisping Willy’s fading memory.

Your fish tank took up too much time

And the crawdad claw sales operation

Was merely a sham of an invocation

Of an avuncular nature. Pleasing spirits,

You killed our child. Dead uncles should rest,

For a niece too fond of them is not blessed.

Your cavern’s heat forced our son to meet

An early demise, yet I do not despise you.

Remove your clothes to reveal the mess

Straining the fibers of your dress.

Let’s stop fighting over the lost boy,

He’s even uglier in death than life

And you, you whore, are still my wife.

Let me put rich red shiraz in the cup

From which our dear Billy once drank

Cheers! The world is our septic tank.

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