Sonnettics

We bear the same initials, T. S. E.
And so I thought we must be kindred souls
I thought the words we’d bring the world to see
Might mark the heights of reaching lofty goals

But words are as directionless as thought
If thoughts become our words, the world is lost
Cacophony is music that we bought
Before we knew, poetically, the cost

These half deserted streets are mine alone
“What is it?” was the thought I thought to speak
But poetry is that to which I’m prone
Poetic circus needs poetic freak

The mermaid cunts were singing, each to each
And I was hungry, so I ate a peach.

A person who writes copious amounts of poetry. A sonnetmonger is a subset of poemongery.

Years from now I hope people will look back and say, “Poetry isn’t just about flowers and love, just read Ennis.”

mul·le·jua·na

noun

A smokeable mixture of dried mullein leaves and marijuana.

“He ground his marijuana buds with dried mullein leaves to make a smokeable batch of mullejuana.”