Figuratively Speaking (a SoC poem)

Figuratively speaking, I am literally no good at poetry;

my words don’t rhyme,

don’t scan,

because I can’t keep time;

my feet, are indiscreet,

and when I’m upon Poetry Street

I never feel complete,

or able to compete.

Speaking of Poetry Street;

it needs resurfacing,

and there are far too many avenues

leading off of it,

that I tend to follow,

and they always lead to a sunken mire

in which I wallow,

like a simile in a choir,

or something like that

(metaphorically speaking)

And have you ever heard a flat-earther sing?

Hypothetically and rhetorically, of course.

Or a poetical horse

rocking the rhythm and rhyme?

Maybe a tangerine dreaming of becoming

the next Milton, lost in Paradise,

gently strumming upon a 7-string guitar?

How far will I take this?

Up to here – and no more,

oom-pah-pah.

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