Sonnet (November)

The sonnet gets into a not knot attempting to act its age while keen to explain that it’s got the hots in a hundred-plus lines of but fourteen. The sonnet longs to name the name, stares out a window that is metaphysical onto a world that’s much the same; plots lovers’ rhymes blithe, raunchy, quizzical. The sonnet would have us remember the ups and downs we’d sooner forget, as if all our lives were that once November more down than up, or up and yet the sonnet admits it will not quit, laughs and loves and gets on with it.

 

Sonnet (November)

 

The sonnet gets into a not knot

Attempting to act its age while keen

To explain that it’s got the hots

In a hundred-plus lines of but fourteen.

The sonnet longs to name the name,

Stares out a window that is metaphysical

Onto a world that’s much the same;

Plots lovers’ rhymes blithe, raunchy, quizzical.

The sonnet would have us remember

The ups and downs we’d sooner forget,

As if all our lives were that once November

More down than up, or up and yet

The sonnet admits it will not quit,

Laughs and loves and gets on with it.