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Mar 2015
Dark bat, would I were curious as thou art-
Like a tea-tray twinkling at night,
And lying with eternal wings apart
Til morning when you end your flight,
And spend the day at your raven-like desk
Chanting incantations old and obscure
With lyrics obscene and Kafkaesque
Quoting first Foucault, then Sassure -
No-yet still puzzling, still remarkable
A black beacon amid shades of grey -
Elusive, and in pursuit quite snark-able.
To you I am drawn as a ****** to ****
I’ll be your muse and you’ll be my death.
A sonnet I wrote for an eccentric guy with a Lewis Carroll/general literature fixation. It's the only sonnet that I have a record of writing and I'm quite happy with it even though it doesn't completely scan.
Evie Brill Paffard
Written by
Evie Brill Paffard  York
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