Dear Marian (New Style)

Dear Marian, what happened to my sonnets? I think I stepped on
them the dainty line breaks & 14 constraints like the bend
of my bow the M4/M5 melted & a-ha! take
that Leigh de la Ware! I stole the princely sum of 2 guineas
when I ordered tea & hot water not 
2 teas. a tease.


*

((The original scripty font is still being used, but for spacing reasons isn't used on the blog))

Not enough facial hair.

This guy clearly doesn't have enough facial hair to enable him to pull off the cunning of Robin Hood. He also needed a better hide-out, and more Merry Men...


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Dear Marian

the hunger is in

the kitchen, the statute

of the Shepherd Lead.

English about its 1200

AD CE Marian I have

AVCE in tourism

& all will flock to

see your frock

its tender lines

like your crow

feet fetch the

winkles from

the monger.

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Dear Marian

Dear Marian

I shall miss the brick work

builders cracks &

poetic discourse on the

female versification but

Marian I shall not miss those

scaffolders & their pole holders

I'll rent a van &

return it draped in silks &

grapes if I only can

find a sausage dog hogtied & in

crushed velvet I droop into

wearisome peddaling of

third rate goods.

*

Dear Marian

I haven't left yet it

takes time to just

drop things & leave look

at Scotland Yard its a lot

bigger & not even outside

I have gambled all my money on

a second coming I hope

I have the stamina

My hart is a forester forced

to walk on its hands while

o veer the limit

I ken, I ken,

again.

*

This week

...I will mostly be traversing the south-west.

More guest summer balls will posted.

I have begun the Robin Hood sequence of sonnets. I'm not sure where I'm going with them. They're in the form of letters from RH to Marian & he is outlawing himself from the city. The sequence starts of detailing city life & will juxtapose this with detailing the wild life - which I guess I'll get round to writing when I do the same thing.

Dear Marian

I pissed on the toilet seat

again and on my shoes the

splatter forming unfound droplets

and sniff this stuff. Today is

brought by radio and writing is

ob or oblivious o

it leaked through the holes

my socks is wet the socks

thou didst knit that summer

to spite me O

little lady on a scooter stop

shouting at the hills, son,

he said cunny so save it.