Forsooth.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXXV)


Lo, Gershwin--did I think to thus avail
Me with pure ambience for coffee's dense
Black notes? Tis quashed upon attempt, as thence
Thin hopes of drinking in good compny.  Pale
Blue skies own icy clouds, and on that scale
How golden light is rather ghastly hence,
Whileas I stoke the thought that for intents
I'm being a proper Swede sans cream's detail.
No danish could quite answer for as twere
Exactly what my instinct sought to do
This black elixir good.  No sugar, to
Be certain, either. Milk was allus poor
In that regard.  And now dead poets' tour
Of compny is as well?  Whose music too?

29Jan19