Stranger than Dactyls and Trochees Dancing

This poem might be
a skeltonic spondee
or an
….abecedarian
….ballad
….canto
….dirge.

She might surge forth
poetic in her own
ghazal’d glory, or flarf in your general
direction.  She’d take a volta
for the better, except she forgot to pay
the meter
and she missed
her last
quatrain.

Don’t strain yourself
to try to find a rhyme
or reason, a seasoned
strophe or a small
pastiche
……..(God bless you.)

She’s through trying to
spill to please or onomatopoeia
to order. She’s border

-line schizophrenic
and more than a little
cadence confused.
Plus,
(you know this;
you’ve seen this;
you’ve met her)

she’s no stranger
to the blues.

 

 

..
Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge, day 15

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