I could have been that muse that causes men
to tear their hair and pound upon their chests.
I could have been a vampish heroine
who haunts ex-loves with my round, silky breasts.
What about a gypsy, tramp, and thief
they’ll miss when I am lead away for good
who steals the gold–even from their teeth–
but makes them feel that I’m misunderstood?
Fair Circe would have built a shrine to me.
Mae West would say, “Now that’s my kinda broad.”
Black widows would find other industry.
Mata Hari’d resurrect just to applaud.
Yet all this time the world was not spellbound.
Oh, silly me, this charm book’s upside down!
Editor’s Note: Humor in poetry has a long history that many modern readers have forgotten. This sonnet is a lovely example of absurdity.
Announcement: CLOSED to submissions until August 20, 2015. I will resume reading on August 20, 2015. Daily poems will resume on August 24. Thank you!