A small irreverent demon
tunnels in and out of me.
Perhaps he is related to legendary gnomes
for he digs just for the pleasure
of moving amounts of me about
and he’s not particular.
Today he is mining
in the bowels of my earth.
I feel his hot breath
delving, mining, heaving out
a steaming crapulence
that arrives as talk
a kind of speech,
a kind of spoken demonology,
harvested as poetry.
Believe it or not, this word's in the dictionary
“Discomfort from eating too much” nice imagery
“Crapulence” sounds witty
Not really very pretty
A routine so we don't become big and billowy
Oh, blatant inequality between
a man and a woman! I could plainly glean
that from the little rendezvous we had
last night. I was intolerably bad
in how I behaved: a tongue-tied man,
unwilling to be content with less than
a pledge of paradise sealed by a kiss,
together uptight and excited with
your reticence, the glitter of your rings,
the strange configuration of the wings
behind your back... The crapulence, the crumbs
in lonely bed I curse when morning comes.
All kind of equities is just a fraud:
I dream about you, you dream me not.
stirring washing up
crapulence
true love on the rocks
MagiCicada 13
Believe it or not, this word's in the dictionary
“discomfort from eating too much” nice imagery
“Crapulence” sounds shitty
Not really very pretty
A daily routine so we don't become big and billowy
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.