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I shamble on and rake my feet
Against the sanguine shaded ground.
I do not feel the rising heat
Of the dead leaves strewn all around
The moist, lifeless and littered soil.
Without a thought within my skull
And victim gripped in fear and toil
To free himself before I kill
Him, I eat his brains to fill the void
Where once I thought of dying trees;
Autumnal landscapes once enjoyed
With florid colored, crunchy seas.
               Just maybe, if I eat his brain,
               I’ll think of autumn once again.
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Author's Comments

This is the sonnet I turned in for my poetics class. It's a little late for Halloween, but I hadn't hashed out the details of this piece until the day before it was due. I still haven't gotten a grade on it yet, but I feel good about my chances.

The syntax is a little patchy, it's in iambic tetrameter, it has a standard Shakespearean sonnet rhyme scheme, and now I feel like a real nerd for knowing all this stuff.

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November 7, 2008
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