Becoming William

Having written a poem
I now realize
I am a genius.
So I take what I want
and need not ask forgiveness -
because I do these things for you,
dear reader.

I have stolen William's plums -
the ones he originally 
stole himself. 
I devoured them.
They were, indeed, delicious
so sweet and so cold.

But I need not ask forgiveness.
His plums nourished me
as my sweet lyrics now nourish you,
dear reader.

I watched another William 
as he plucked silver and golden apples
and when he bent over
to put them in his sack
I plucked him.

I plucked him good and hard
and for a long time.
Then I trampled his dappled grass.

But I need not ask forgiveness.
His apples sustained me
as these graceful notes now sustain you, 
dear reader.

I heard a third William
as he obsessed about his stewed prunes,
which had caused him to grow horns
where his rapidly receding hair had been.

I grabbed his wrinkled prunes
and squeezed the sour juice.
From that weak stream
I concocted a cocktail,
which I drink to his health 
even as he steams in the stew.

But I need not ask forgiveness.
His prunes seduced me, 
as these charming melodies now seduce you,
dear reader.

I shall now write my second poem.
It will be a sonnet.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

2 Comments

  1. Liz H says:

    Plucking from the best, to replenish your stores? Never mind, their bounty extends to what went before.
    The creative rose grows best, when it arises amongst others’ compost.

    Like

    1. luvgoodcarp says:

      Haha. Very well put, Liz.

      Liked by 1 person

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