PetrarchA Poem by Kenneth The Poethe set himself up to write the sonnet one hell of a difficult exercise to write something of the Petrarchan size but to win the day is to get on it
yet his head is wrapped up in the bonnet tied up within the free-verse enterprise Petrarch left minor room for compromise but the hungry one, the one that wants it
so he writes hard, writes long until it falls something bad, something wrong, maybe profound something that swells up from deep underground no longer contained with in the four walls the mental confines have become rubble what is left is not just burned-up stubble © 2013 Kenneth The PoetAuthor's Note
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Added on January 9, 2013Last Updated on January 9, 2013 AuthorKenneth The PoetBismarck, NDAboutKenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..Writing
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