Sonnet XLVI
©06-09-23, Olan L. Smith
Yeah, he's a toothpickin', double ass-slayer,
A snot picker. A real sad dick-licker
With smegma piled in crevices of disgust.
Faded paisley wallpaper, fragmented dust
On floors, abandoned houses, evil streets,
The ashes, remnants of hollow conceits.
He works to restores golden time, wallow
In sins! His glory, rotten fruit in hollow
Minds filled with gray cobwebs and empty thoughts,
And mildewed corners, people casting lots,
While stagnant water spills from lofty corners;
A man, a jack, a john, and sad faced scorners.
An orange faced, apish devils' nut-a-sphere
Who cries the hate of men of yesteryear.
A.N. This sonnet is morphed from a free versed poem, "Taste the Sulphur" and converted into a couplet sonnet, a task I've not attempted before.
YOU ARE READING
Sonnets Written by Olan L. Smith
PoetryI am moving many of my singly published poems into collections, and in this collection will reside all my sonnets I have written, and will write in the future--I hope you enjoy. Love, peace, and freedom, Olan L. Smith aka Cotton Jones. (Cover credit...
