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A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Poem-in-Your-Pocket Day--Snorrrrrrrrrring--National Poetry Month

Today is Poem-in-Your-Pocket Day. You can go here to see what that is. I'm going to write one and then go hibernate because someone kept me up all night....


A big part of the problem is both of us do it,
That cacophonous commotionous, incredible feat
In spite of the contortionly positions I sleep in 
To stop up the sound of two walruseseses in heat.

But last night, long before I could even position
My head on the pillow to start my deep breaths
Your maw opened up and let loose a great aria
Of nasal proportions that featured great deaths.

I lay there and fidgeted knowing that too soon
The son for a ride into work would come knocking
But there you were, singing, with pompous bombastion
Oblivious to poking and prodding and boxing.

So now, in the morning, I'm a hag-ridden zombie
Stumbling around like I haven't a head
And I wonder how often I've done a disservice
To you, who must work, despite feeling dead.

Perhaps it is time to acquire a concoction
Which quiets the sound of embattled brown bears.
For then we'd sleep frapious and rise in the morning
All cheerful, callooing and doing loud cheers!

Until then I suppose there's a chair or the sofa
For those nights when you sound like a rattling train.
Or, I guess I could fill up your bedside with popcorn
Or nap so I won't go completely and absolutely and in all ways insane!
© 2017 by H. Linn Murphy
And now I'm off to bed for the second time. Good night.

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