Three Imaginary Sonnets

1.Fortunato to His Fetters


See Edgar Allan Poe, "The Cask of Amontillado"...

For the love of God! I cannot feel it now,
as numbness, warm and drunken, starts to spread —
a breath ago I felt, upon my brow,
a spider creep. Now all I sense, instead:
the bells, bells, bells upon my head.
The crypt is black as night, black as a crow
or raven’s plumes; my drinking-mates, the dead
whose fleshless faces follow from below.
No tiny chink remains, no prick of light,
my foe’s flambeau now long since snuffed in glee.
He never named the insult — nor, despite
his fury, ever claimed what injury
condemned me. And, alas, too late to ask
him now: For the love of God — where is that cask?


2. The Taco Bell Naked Egg Taco® to the Taco Bell Naked Crispy Chicken Chalupa®

Taco Bell is constantly pushing the boundaries of what they consider to be the perfect taco shell. First, they created the the Naked Chicken Chalupa which starred a taco shell made of literal fried chicken. But now they've outdone themselves, yet again, with a breakfast item called the Naked Egg Taco featuring a shell made entirely of a fried egg. details are HERE.

 

Now who comes first? That’s right! I’ll wager that
the pecking order’s changed. No more to wait,
to be a dormant form. No more my fate
to plumb potentiality. For what
is life all in one basket? Today I feel
a newfound purpose, in a newfound form.
The early bird, I’ve heard told, gets the worm,
and breakfast is the most important meal.
Is the sky falling? Or is it clear, at last?
What’s that, Abrasax? Is your aeon through?
Let ousted archons rest, unserved, in Hell,
while Orphic totems reign, a new repast.
I contain, not just myself, but am a shell
and shell-less. Hail, new morning! I am new!


3. Arius Didymus to Octavian


 

(When asked by the soon-to-be Emperor Augustus whether he should be merciful and spare the only son of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra, the philosopher Arius Didymus counseled him: “Too many Caesars aren’t well.”)

Too many Caesars aren’t good to keep
around; they just get everywhere, you know?
They worm their way through armies, and they creep
Up best-laid schemes like ivies. One can grow
Much larger than you think when it’s a pup.
Before you know it, wham-o!, there you are,
The business end of bloody coup. Shoot up
Like reeds, those kings. A backwards shooting star.
Too many friends, perhaps. Or not enough
Countrymen and Romans to go around.
And once one’s taken hold, it’s mighty tough
To stamp them out. They’ll root in the hardest ground,
And triumph. Monkey sees, monkey conquers.
I swear, the whole damn lot of ’em are bonkers.

Daniel Galef

If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Daniel Galef would be pleased to hear them.