Volta of Venus

“Your love is like doggerel,” she told me.
“When I want my rhythm Sprung
and Manley meters hung on my enjambments,
you give me nothing but caesuras or
go slant when I seek heroic coupling
and crave the thunder of brute joy’s commandments.

“Your lines are always limping with elision.
Even after lessons on revision
your archaic diction and contractions
discharge their salty stresses in abstractions
while I am left adrift by such concision!

“See you missed my volta once again!
You always promise epic acumen,
But your stamina is limerick to the core.
Go Doolittle your Poesy Galore!”

Filed under: Poetry, Psyche Comments Off
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