may 13, 2001 10:08 a.m. pst
It's coming soon,
I know it.
Serendipity bestows a glance upon the profane and the happenstance.
The day begins with anticipation
Regurgitating solace with participation
A few weak knees at the outset
And cacaphony's tuning fork at the headset.
I listen for a sound,
And begin again in anticipation profound.
The words are just laughing again,
Pin it down,
It's all been said before,
And can it be said with profundity again.
Repeat, rewind, regurgitate anew,
Rhyming couplets with eradicating sympathetic spew.
Words can mean so much I always thought,
To that party my hearty appetite I brought,
And I spewed beatitudes and witticisms wry and wicked,
But reality itself became as always bland insipid.
The paragraphs advanced, and words fell off the page with age,
Rhyming dictionarys were thrown in the fire, and I began again,
In anticipation
And with rage.
Another sage bites the dust.
Link to the complete text versions of Poetry in 2001Link to the graphical version of this poem.
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
ElectricPoetry
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