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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Marc Darnell


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Ode To Spot

It's time to write a poem about my dog,
how much I learned from him when going on
enlightening autumn strolls, but I don't have one—
I can't feed myself, much less a dog.

How about one of a garden, a naughty fruit
my lover offered me, who egged me on
to take a bite and sin, then done with Eden
and frontal nudity and making out

and making girls from ribs, and my son Cain
killing his brother-- I'm not bored enough
to pen such science fiction. What if I write
a thick and vengeful lyric, have it stain

the world of purebred liars, their saccharine fluff,
but I'm all out of anger, spit and spite
to craft some anti-elitist epilogue—
it's time to write a poem about my dog.