The cube tray of the sonnet: fill it, freeze
it, crack it, clink it into glasses. Get
your girlfriend drunk then get her pregnant. Ease
of operation. Buy her diamonds. Bet
on hockey games. They play them with a Puck,
you know, and you’re a Shakespeare man. You’ll slip
sometimes and turn it on a dime. With luck,
you’ll break no vows and bed together. Grip
the handle lightly, bend your knees, take breaks
if you get short of breath. Don’t be alarmed
if you unearth a skull. It’s clothing makes
the man. Your customary black has charmed
at least one foolish rich man’s singing daughter.
Avoid rock salt. There’s laws against self-slaughter.
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, MI. His poems have appeared recently in Blood & Bourbon, Brickplight, and Visceral Uterus. Tom’s website: https://thomaszimmerman.wordpress.com/