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Machiavellian
I'm not a poet.
I just drink too much coffee
and have a thesaurus.
PBS is a great place to hear big words.
Machiavellian, you will be mine!
Your deceitful, six syllable ass
is slated for stanza three.
I took a brisk one-miler
this morning.
A poem was born of adrenalin.
It swelled in my head
as I labored homeward
to squat before my keyboard
and expel it naturally.
I named it Machiavellian,
praying it wouldn't be teased in school.
Time for another kahlua vanilla creme.
I'm feeling philosophical
and in the mood for couplets.
What rhymes with neoplatonic?
~Donna Dixon
2005
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"Woman
Fragments"
"Crosses
below Church"
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