Introduction
My twenty-fifth podcast is a poem.
(It's much less repetitive than the last one.)
Main Content
Hello
Good evening
and welcome
I’m Franklyn Monk
I hold deep-seated and derisive political ideologies
It’s true!
I’m an ally
But I see no sense in preaching to the choir
I see no sense in preaching to the choir
So I’m gonna talk on somethin’
Mundane
Or prosaic
Like sunsets
The moon
An owl
Oh, the Moon isn’t her real name
Her real name to too beautiful
Too beautiful too beautiful
Her real name would burn your ears
Or my tongue
Turn you into a zombie
Albeit a good one
That doesn’t eat people
So it continually eats itself
Sunrise to sunset
Sunset to sunset
There’s an owl there
Somewhere
Oh, I have a first conscience memory of an owl
But it’s too painful to revisit
So it’s left as an exercise
For the audience
What is the poet’s owl?
My twenty-fifth podcast, this one is a poem.
And I promise it is far less repetitive than than last one!
It’s a Hoot
http://t.co/Cmhq52tRjT
An owl.
Just an owl.
An owl!
Or, an owl.
Just an owl.