[RCL]

Although I expected somewhat different responses, it never occurred to me that a “found poem” would emerge from responses to a prize-winning sonnet of loathsome love. I can’t do better than either, so, for a grin, give you some doggerel.

My Funny Valentine

She’s Nature’s art in full disgrace
beginning with her longing face.
Below her bangs the eyebrows mate,
her eyes are runny, teeth like slate.
Her ears, unlike smooth tiny seashells,
swing a lot like misshaped cowbells.
Her twitching nose is ski-slope long
and never has inspired a song.
With lips severely under-drawn
and tongue that yaps from dusk to dawn,
with sour breath to make one reel,
this is one gal no one would steal.
But I’m a pooch who loves her smile
when we’re embracing doggy style.


Siriusly!