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Oklahoma, Maybe.



Oklahoma, Maybe.

In Texas:

We don’t use French in poetry --
It’s all affect, no matter the alliteration,
The vowels add only unearned arrogance.

Some German works:
Our thoughts sound best
In the language they were born.

Italian is just a kind of lust
With all the strangeness of rhythmic sonnets...
Their love is just a hole to step out of.

Latin words mean nothing.
Iambic my ass, we’re not Rome --
We plan to still be standing for the fall.

Michael S Brady 2010

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