Smattering - An Abcedian
Yeehaw, y'all.
All before me, hear this smattering,
Bring to me your weary eyes.
Cease for now incessant chattering,
Dare to read what I’ve surmised.
End for me this shameful act,
For stooping to the humble poem,
Gracious all, believe this fact:
Here in this world, I find no home.
In poetry, I never dwell,
Just prose, for prose’s sake.
Kindness show me, in this Hell,
Lopsided me forsake.
Many nights I labor on,
Nights for infertile verses.
On nights like these, I savor none,
Poor stanzas turn to curses.
Quiet now, I’m nearly there,
Returning soon to prose.
Suffering in this poet’s air,
This smattering, I suppose.
Unlikely am I to return,
Voracious, though I am,
With this here poem, with great concern,
Xylophone’s a word!
You think, I think, so poor of me, to clamor for this contest, but
Zombies all are we, you see—this abcedarian’s in protest.
About the Creator
Steven Christopher McKnight
Disillusioned twenty-something, future ghost of a drowned hobo, cryptid prowling abandoned operahouses, theatre scholar, prosewright, playwright, aiming to never work again.
Venmo me @MickTheKnight
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Comments (3)
Brilliant!🤩 I love this poem! “In poetry, I never dwell, Just prose, for prose’s sake. Kindness show me, in this Hell,”… hilarious. Reminds me of a line in 10CC’s song from long ago “Art for art’s sake, money for God’s sake.” ✅
For a prose writer you did an outstanding work in poetry! What I TRULY enjoyed, is AT LAST finding a poem that rhymes. thank you!
Lol! Very nice. "Xylophone's a word!" killed me. 😆