I like my girls to have some backbone in them
so that their strings keep some fun play in them
when I ask to drink one more round with them
and then believe I care of things with them.
I like my girls with spirit but that much
might put me off my tip knowing that much
about the world and our import too much
dumped on history’s ignorance, too much.
I like my girls to leave preference to me
rather than show their lovely strength to me
I prefer ignorance, bar facing me,
over weak reality facing me.
I like my girls to like what I offer,
inked muscle draping cover to proffer.
As usual, I like how I start but feel my delivery falters while my attention wanders. Short forms dodge my own shortcomings. I have sudden unexpected calendar-scheduled progress reports due, unexpected amounts of work for paper deadlines, etc. Short forms are my refuge. They reflect my diurnal life.
The first line was overheard (NaPoWriMo.net) someplace random at some random time in the past week. I can’t be more precise without revealing too much about people from whom I haven’t asked permission. There actually is a bit of Earth Day in this, but you’d need to know one subject to realize it. While this isn’t so much recycled from other work, I do repeat myself intentionally.
And I realize this is only roughly a sonnet yet more structured. Odd. But even? It’s time to remember that the Doctor returns to mass consumption tomorrow. I should blame them for my prior obsession with the letters r and d…