My Lucid Reality

Welcome to the Sunday Mangled poem.  Every week I post a mangled poem, sometimes it’s something simple with no point other than to point out that there are some terrible poems out there, or to demonstrate just how badly I can do poetry.  I do this in celebration of some of the published poems I have read that make my brain hurt.

This week’s mangled poem is a tribute to the Epitaphs:

The epitaph can be poetry or prose; if poetry, it can be in any rhythmical pattern or none, rhymed or unrhymed. It should not be confused with the elegy, which, although often similar to the epitaph in subject and tone, is quite a bit longer.  Ron Padgett.

Thusly my tribute to an epitaph:

I am fine

Though in sand up to his head
I can breathe alright he said
Don’t worry I am fine
Now he rests in yonder shrine

 — -

This subject is ripe with possibility, both sad, and funny.  The origin of my poem comes from a time we were burying a friend in the sand and he kept saying “I can breathe just fine!” ever since then I’ve thought it’d make a wonderful epitaph.

I look forward to hearing yours.

Claudious