Sonnet 32

  • Make me into a moment,
  • I'm in the midst but lost the cause,
  • The air is damp, the sun is moist,
  • Don't let me cool off, pause.
  • Mistake me for a fancy,
  • That dancing donut idle there,
  • Crumbling at a chance for a glance,
  • Some reason to shake for enamored stares.
  • Rake me into a mound,
  • Defying all convention and logic,
  • Resettling on suspension and frolic,
  • A heap of magic, fanfare.
  • But before all this, a toast,
  • To this life of leisure, it's too grandiose.

Notes

Still in that "work's purpose" kinda mood, this time having an urge to be self-destructive and throw everything into chaos (again). I'm not built for regularity, I'm really not.

So as I approach the verge of breaking some former self, I'm finding myself wanting a few strategic prods from specific peoples, to perhaps motivate me to continue down a more tenuous dawdle that will hopefully lead into a ramble and ultimately a saunter.

Again no meter, no structured rhyme, simple approach, simple conclusion, not much word play, just rhythm and a very straightforward point. Just something to post.

— Huy on