But hard, what brick through yonder window breaks,
Evicting light, and strewing shards of glass?
What note enshrouds its solid form, and takes
One's breath away to read its text so crass?
The words writ large in red offend the eye--
Leave little to imagination's mind--
"These forty-two words here must dormant lie,
Lest someone earn concussion from behind."
A contest entry
- A Few Words I'm Sick of Seeing: by Exit-Stage-Right.
1050 points, ended September 15, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Oh if it could only be longer!
What an odd little ditty this is. Nice sentence structure, enjambment, etc. It is very short :< Too bad, because this could roll on another two or four verses very pleasantly. Also, if you substituted your words “forty-two” with the words “fifty-nine”, you’d actually have the word count of the poem. People would look at that and say “ How clever of the poem to self-fulfill its own prophecy of the seventh line in the eighth line!
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