Three Word-Sonnets: A Study in Minimalism

#I #Despair

  there

  is

  a

  sordid

  rhythm

  in

  hopelessness;

  a

  staccato,

  fibrillating

  heartbeat

  which

  vibrates

  inward

#II #Joy

  happiness

  smells

  just

  like

  the

  first

  pancake

  and

  the

  last

  but

  not

  the

  rest

#III #Je Ne Sais Quoi

  upon

  this

  rock

  i

  will

  build

  My

  hurt

  and

  cultivate

  it

  against

  the

  rain

  

Feedback:Squalor & Love | The Heaviness of Loss

  

More Poetry from Lana:

4 a.m. it slithers

Also Known As

Excerpts From A Voicemail

On Mortality, December 1980

Chambers Street

On Regret

The Man of Châlons

Beast

Silence Is.

The Day I Caught The Sun

Nearly Zero