Tom Bell Poet Light Verse

Confused Poetic Travels

I entered the poetic cave.
Lit all the alliterations I could, so I could see.
I had hoped for a burlesque show, but settled on ordering a sausage canzone 
from the pizzeria.
When I was in Vietnam, under Carpe Diem, he would often reflect on the visual
power of the Nazi Chatushka.  I thought it was a cinqku, that if we went before the 
Clerihew, the mob would not attempt to implant us in concrete.
As I watched him adorn his head with a crown of sonnets, the crystalline form of 
the cave around us became evident.
I drove my Diamante outside in hopes of catching a prehistoric didactic take to 
the air.
Sadly, my diminished hexaverse was overpowered by three Japanese martial 
artist witches in their doduitsu.
I ordered a double dactyl, and downed it in one shot......

to be continued.....

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