Parental Advisory

Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we propose to posit prose poetry
forming a form of continuous connectivity,
to communicate considerable contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose poetry is what you’ll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft are wrought, and revealed thusly,
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.

This Sit

I am the one done wrote ‘This Sit’,
and I’m very glad you get to see it,
since sitting is what I do the best.
I suppose you must sit too, I guess.

 So, Shiva. The timbers, with embers aglow,
were alight through the night. I sat in a shadow,
alone by the phone, wishing only to know
a voice, and rejoiced when I heard roosters crow.

To have, then have not, can cause one to miss.
To covet thy neighbor's creates an abyss,
a schism, a chasm, consumption and bile.
Fear not to own your own vertical smile.

It may not feel good to be left
behind, but now I find my mind bereft 
of any ill conceived notions,
as all my devotions 
rest upon my gluteal cleft.