Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
A Poetry Brawl Down at the Long Branch Saloon
I wrestled with a line of blank verse until
It fell, all writhing on the floor, and there
It gasped for breath and glared at me with hate
Each syllable grating against another
“You have a sorry accent,” it snarled
“And when my rhythm rises I will make you
A dactyl fallen or a trochee tripped
With my booted and spurred iambic feet!”
But we shook hands, and let our quarrel cease
And so at Miss Kitty’s there was
Syllabic accentuation at peace
Jun 4, 2021
Jun 4, 2021 at 3:21 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
A Poetry Brawl Down at the Long Branch Saloon
I wrestled with a line of blank verse until
It fell, all writhing on the floor, and there
It gasped for breath and glared at me with hate
Each syllable grating against another
“You have a sorry accent,” it snarled
“And when my rhythm rises I will make you
A dactyl fallen or a trochee tripped
With my booted and spurred iambic feet!”
But we shook hands, and let our quarrel cease
And so at Miss Kitty’s there was
Syllabic accentuation at peace
Makin' iambs do what they oughrter / Is better handled by Texas John Slaughter!