Lumpy- Headed Sonnet
Greetings! And what has brought you to see me, Mr. Dawson?
You see, I’ve found a small lump that has amassed mass distress
And would you say from day to day that you feel mad depressed?
A curveball, but yes, I confess feeling less than awesome.
Do you drink too much? Feel out-of-touch? And if so, how often?
Maybe… Yes… I guess the process has me viewing my own coffin.
Do you feel like a let-down to all who love you in life?
Is your med-degree in poetry? Why yeah, I bear that strife.
And how often would you say that you indulge in marijuana?
What? I’m here for my lump. Kindly address that instead.
Evading the question? But why on earth would you wanna?
No answer? Let’s refocus. My prognosis is something you’ll dread.
How much time do I have left? I know that I am a goner.
There is no lump, Mr. Dawson. It is all inside your head.
Inspired by dVerse MTB – Neruda and the free verse sonnet, hosted by Bjorn, but not shared there, as this is not quite what he was looking for in a Petrarchan sonnet. The subject matter is inspired by actual events. When I saw Bjorn’s post, it gave me the idea to create a conversation in sonnet form. [EDITED: Bjorn suggested that I share it on his prompt anyway, so I did! I also tightened a few lines in my poem. The flow was bugging me.]
Did I just invent a new form? Surely someone has already done this. Meh. It was a good de-stressing exercise anyways.
If you’re curious about Petrarchan sonnets, head over to dVerse. Also check out some examples here.