Mack Hall, HSG
mhall46184@aol.com
Poetic Shutdown
As lonely iambs roam cold, empty streets,
The sky is red with burning anapests,
And fluttering sonnets bewail their fate,
Adrift past barricades of turgid prose.
Raise high the Red Editorial Pen!
Lift up your tattered hypermonosyllables!
Let slip the hamsters of metaphorical war,
And upon this overdue library charge slip
Cry "God! for Canada, coffee, and blank verse!"
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