My brothers were remarking I've had more beaus than most...  



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLXXXVIII)


La, how Vivaldi trills and capers thence
When I am on the run, like to avail
Me is a chancy thing for all he'd hail
In, erm, my absence.  And oh! these skies wear hence
Long faces since rain swore off dawn, a sense
Of sheer foreboding in racks' blue detail,
The scanner crackling with a weary tale
My brother knew would be, and "jail" fr'intents.
Dad swears I am "subjective" as it were,
That list of boyfriends I once tripped on through
(Whereof I say "I don't know how to stir
Aught man, but I kin sure ditch lovers") to
A fault against my dearest hopes, a poor
Reminder of I can't say what.  Why, too?

10Jul17b