Author Joseph Heywood
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Sonnet #1
[Portage, September 9, 2009]

Six decades into iambics, da DUM
Words drifting in my brain seem far from done
But the cadence I hear clear is DA BUM
Making me want to swallow my old gun.

I once aspired to the poet’s life
In a town with a campus, stately trees,
A dog, some kids, and an admiring wife,
But what blind loser wants a bum like me?

Instead of news by day, verse by night
I joined a salsa band to pound drums
Clad in gaudy costumes I was a sight
For minimum wages and beaucoup rum.

And here I reside in the year oh-nine
Blind-ass drunk  as a skunk on cheap box wine.


 
 
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