poems, mostly metrical, and rants and raves on poets, poetry, and the po-biz (with 8-string stuff)
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Nothing Left to Lose

With nothing left to lose, I’d be lost,
And so might you. When all you’ve loved is gone,
Nothing remains which might defray that cost.
With nothing left to lose, I’d be lost
Just like a losing lotto ticket tossed
Away when I have nothing left to pawn.
With nothing left to lose, I’d be lost –
And so might you, when all you’ve loved is gone.


I’m just recovering from a week of alternating nausea and dizziness. My brain is just starting to work again, or at least I hope so. Not at all sure the above is positive evidence.

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1 Mary Alexandra Agner { 01.29.12 at 4:36 pm }

I cannot believe you are also currently working on triolets!

2 Mike { 01.29.12 at 4:53 pm }

Seems to be all I can do these days. But I’m doing something!

3 mittens { 01.31.12 at 5:10 pm }

triolets are like music in a minor key; by the time you’ve done
it’s become a sad sad song. Nicely done, no matter what you may think. Hope youre feeling better, Mike

4 Mike { 01.31.12 at 7:54 pm }

Judy, you know, don’t you, that now I have to write a comic triolet?

5 mittens { 02.01.12 at 1:19 pm }

(sitting with arms folded, looking expectantly at the page). Of course. How could you not. I’ll wait.

6 Mike { 02.01.12 at 4:51 pm }

band practice tonight and theater rehearsal tomorrow means you shouldn’t be too assisduous in your looking until the weekend

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