I think I'll wright a poem in the form of a rhombus
No, better still, a dodecahedron.
Take an afternoon to muse on whether Old Goudy is
More passionate than Garamond
And which I’m more font of.
Dig out my old word association tests from the shrink
Sprinkle ‘mesmeric rocks’, ‘jagged wolf’, ‘muscular aeroplane’
With a liberal dash of what it means to be a woman -
You know the kind of thing.
Avoid all internal and half-rhyme
And obvious poet-y words like ‘shard’ or 'rivulet'.
People will marvel at my resonance.
It will sound exactly as if it means something
Brought to you direct from the metaphysical mind.
(But really it's just me, the cat
A fridge magnet alphabet
And nothing decent on the box.
© LS King 2006