Drunk Sonnet (for Meg Tuite)
by Bill Yarrow
drunk with sweat crumpled into my lack
slick with sickness crumbled into my drunk
into my sweating with crumpled drunkness
into my slackness with drunken bumping
drunken crumpled dazzling chaos
fleeting as a sweating witness
feeling like a crumpled suitcase
faster than a crinkled winking
dappled as a sweat-stained wimple
simple as a crusted pimple
injured like a misted blueprint
perjured like a fickle impulse
tortured by a feather toothbrush
lapsing humbled brandished cracking.
slick with sickness crumbled into my drunk
into my sweating with crumpled drunkness
into my slackness with drunken bumping
drunken crumpled dazzling chaos
fleeting as a sweating witness
feeling like a crumpled suitcase
faster than a crinkled winking
dappled as a sweat-stained wimple
simple as a crusted pimple
injured like a misted blueprint
perjured like a fickle impulse
tortured by a feather toothbrush
lapsing humbled brandished cracking.
Haha! Fantastic Bill. You've somehow captured some of the essence of Meg Tuite's high thin mercury lightning-in-a- bottle. Great piece in and of itself but also a respectful and very humorous tip of the hat to one of my favorite writers (and one of my favorite people) Very well done. Made me smile! * (Fave ~ in BOLD, RED CAPS!)
The piece carries your voice and rhythms, Bill - which I like. Great simile approach. The verbs and descriptives work well. Good piece. *
This works on the reader on so many levels at once. The identification comes first in the physical but quickly moves to the emotional and sensational. The thing about a Yarrow poem is its steadfastness even in a drunken haze--it manages its equilibrium with a sure ease that simply mystifies and delights.
Fantastic. Loved it then, love it still. Fave.
Something is seriously wrong with both of you. (Just kidding) *
Thanks for the great comments, Michael, Sam, Darryl, Robert, and Jake!
It's unusual for me to write something on demand. Once I started, it became like a jazz riff. But ordered and metric. I don't know. I guess I was drunk. Except I'm not allowed to drink any more.
Sonic properties.
Love this. Simultaneously abstract and concrete.
I know not a sonnet from a limerick, But I lived this.*
Thanks, Gary and Amanda and Gary.
That was a linguistic orgasm on my tongue. Thank you, Bill. Well done!
Somewhere Yeats and Gerard Manley Hopkins are roiling with envy. Ah, the gorgeousness of "injured like a misted blueprint."
many faves.
Emily and Gita--you both made me blush! Thank you for your lovely comments.
Super good writing, I'd love to hear this performed. *
Nice duet. Love it.
Thanks, Fos and Joani!
This tumbles brilliantly.
Thanks, Chris!
Those are some good words and rhythms, Mr. Yarrow!
*