what began as year-long challenge has become perpetual until further notice
the stone makes the glass remember what it was to be liquid
the swimming pool collects leaves and a windowful of bright sky
I’m Learning Violin. You’re Learning Sax.
misplaced fingers thread a migraine of sound
you are the king of my day
chemical cherry on the tongue of my eye
Melbourne (for Em)
this city is filled to its edges and emptied of you
through the flaws the stories leak
A monostich, as you can see, is a poem of one line. The title can be used to set up the poem and I’ve found on other sites a number of rules that pertain to to the monostich (such as syllabic count and a lack of punctuation).
I often start a poem with a line that has been scribbled down in the wee hours or sparked by something said on the radio, or something I’ve read somewhere – but this was less easy than I thought it would have been, as it has to be something other than a dislocated thought. Having a title is a good crutch. Not sure if I have quite met the rules as set out here, but I’ve found it an interesting and underrated form.
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se non sarò serena, mi rasserenerò
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