The G-Rated Sonnet
I'd like this sonnet to be as sweet, as tender and sexless, as any
love scene featuring Diane Keaton and Steve Martin. I'd like it
to be as dulcet-toned as Anita O'Day singing "Skylark." I'd like
my sonnet to be full of children, yet void of conception, preg-
nancy, and childbirth. Their ears would be ears that have never
heard "foetus" or "fuck" or "pudenda." Their family newspaper
would report only engagements, weddings and births. Images
of war, of broken and mutilated bodies would never appear there.
No names of the dead, please. They'll all remain nameless, unless,
of course, it's Grandma or Grandpa, or, sadly, little Rexie, who
never lived to be a full-sized dog, or that small, nameless kitty we
found in the backyard that day and which Junior ran over with
his scooter without meaning to do so. Like gray-haired Martin, this
sonnet shakes its head in dismay, raises (briefly) its eyes to Heaven.
Hal
Halvard Johnson
================
[log in to unmask]
[log in to unmask]
http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard
http://entropyandme.blogspot.com
http://imageswithoutwords.blogspot.com
Hal
Today's Special
G(e)nome
http://www.xpressed.org/fall03/genome.pdf
Halvard Johnson
================
[log in to unmask]
[log in to unmask]
http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard
http://entropyandme.blogspot.com
http://imageswithoutwords.blogspot.com
|