Spondee Respondent
I have no idea what you just said.
I read it all, then I read what I read;
I played it several times in my head.
I thought I followed, but I lost the thread.
Not always the sharpest tool in the shed,
sometimes I feel like my brain’s a bit dead,
a brain-borne illness that’s starting to spread.
A minute ago… but now there’s no shred.
It seemed like a place to cautiously tread.
Maybe an accident? Seems like you bled?
That person you wrote about: are you still wed?
No, that was a poem written by Fred.
Consuming Soup’s part of my daily bread;
creative juices flow when you are fed,
but after reading, I’m empty instead.
Saying the wrong thing just fills me with dread.
Thoughtful, deep comments might give me street cred,
or some pithy maxim, but wisdom just fled.
See, I ain't got nothing; ignorance pled.
I have no idea what you just said.
Signed, a spondee respondent, “Awesome!” ahead.
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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