Michael Coy Poet Sonnet

I Seek No Man's Approval

The universal yearning to be famous
or heap together masses of monedes
mean zip to me. My id’s an ignoramus.
So own your games of thrones, your maravedis.
Your Florida is Phobos, Denver, Deimos:
your Aspen’s asinine, your Hamptons, Hades.
The rutting writ no longer runs, to tame us:
Pam Blondie you can keep, and likewise ladies
who once manipulated that mandamus -
your Slinky Susies and your Sultry Sadies.
So what remains? It needs no Nostradamus!
The three of us, and Guinness, in O’Grady’s -
my friend and brother, Fighting Irish Seamus:
my little Spanish missus, named Mercedes.

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CayCay Godwin December 21, 2025 at 11:39 PM I like the rhythm and tone very much, looked forward to each line delivered as it built need to KNOW the ending. You delivered! Michael Coy December 22, 2025 at 1:12 AM CayCay, you should be an online poetry mentor. With your sharp understanding of poetry, and your gift for expressing your meaning succinctly, you're well on the way to convincing me that I have talent! Thank you, my friend. Michael