August Sonnet Seven
Before the fireworks, the spark and crack,
the western sky, still lit with northern flare,
descends, that horizontal weakening,
into darkness, obscurity secured,
with some, a little a lot you give or take,
hesitation, the mist before the abyss.
The crowd amassed, dominus vobiscum,
along the river, et cum spiritu tuo,
urges, “always the procreant urge of the world,”
it on—it off, it on, it off, it on—
And so we desire, the respiration of self,
the night, that dark inexplicable delight,
when promised, expecting to be strictly astonished,
something so bright, oh dynamite satellite!
~Son Rivers 2005
A THOUSAND HILLS
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Masaoka Shiki — the fellow who attempted to “reform” hokku into what he
called “haiku” near the beginning of the 20th century — wrote a lot of bad
verses, ...
1 week ago

1 comment:
Shouldn't your sonnet follow some kind of rhyming pattern or iambic pentameter?
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