A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
A craven swine, I poured a glass of wine,
Believing it would help me to forget
My inability to show some spine
When asking lovers to forgive a debt
Incurred by interludes involving sweat
And shared saliva. Idle limbs entwine
Too freely, serving only to abet
A craven swine. I poured a glass of wine,
Attempting fruitlessly to undermine
My sense of shame. I lit a cigarette,
Which likewise proved to be no anodyne.
Believing it would help me to forget
My shallowness, undo my faint regret,
I offered each departing valentine
A chance to sit and smoke a calumet.
My inability to show some spine,
Though pleasing to the seasoned concubine,
Did nothing to appease the young coquette,
And I remain, by hazard or design,
When asking lovers to forgive a debt
(No matter how persistently I fret
About affairs which cause me to define
Myself with such a sordid epithet,
Debarred from being merely asinine),
A craven swine.
C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden. Some of his poems have recently appeared, or are forthcoming, in Blue Unicorn, Pennine Platform, 14 by 14, and other journals. His e-chapbook, A Walk in the Dark, can be read on the website of The New Formalist Press.