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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1930510
A pointed Villanelle.
I told a stranger what sets me apart;
it happened on one March blustery morn.
Straight as an arrow yet I drive a Dart.

We were just chatting in back of K-Mart;
back where they sell merchandise that is worn.
I told a stranger what sets me apart.

I was not trying at all to be smart,
nor was I trying to blow my own horn.
Straight as an arrow yet I drive a Dart.

He seemed impressed as I spoke from the heart;
details I gave him were heartily borne.
I told a stranger what sets me apart.

I stayed so sharp and direct from the start;
he wasn’t bored nor did he seem forlorn.
Straight as an arrow yet I drive a Dart.

Nothing I said could compete with Descartes,*
and I did not bring about any scorn.
I told a stranger what sets me apart;
Straight as an arrow yet I drive a Dart.


Villanelle (19 Lines)
Writer’s Cramp
4-24-13

* Descartes (day-KART)
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