Tweet of the Day, This Poem Is Growing On Me edition.

It has depths, man.  I mean, I wouldn’t be ashamed to have written it.  “The Tiger’s” got all the narrative simplicity of an icepick and it flows well off the spoken tongue. I mean, I can see it all. The tiger. The screaming people.  The child, standing off to one corner, in the middle of the greatest moment of his young life.

Of course, the tiger’s about to eat the bloodthirsty little rotter, but sometimes a poem’s about the interaction between you and the poet.

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…Yeah. Emergency bardic this morning.

I’m putting together a double-acrostic eight-line poem (rhymed couplets) with full internal rhyme, and it’s actually proving to be a bit harder than I expected.  The last line is proving recalcitrant.  I may be free again after lunch.

[UPDATE: Wow, I am so out of practice.  That took forever.]

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