THE MANUSCRIPT
If only I could find the manuscript
I buried underneath the house last spring
Inside a freezer bag both locked and zipped
All strung up snug with fifteen yards of string
And duck taped thick with two full rolls of tape—
A silver bullet brick of dynamite
To blast a ragged crack for my escape
From Dawdle South to Northern Expedite—
I'd be the happy man I thought I'd be
When way back when I first imagined it,
And sweet significance would shine on me.
I'd have the very thing to set me free
To grant myself the laurels of legit
And humbly cede to my celebrity.
D. Edgar Lamp
www.TheDailyPoem.org
Sonnet
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
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