Ottava rima 2

Ottava rima 2

A Poem by Maglia Weaver Twill

Products in the house, the rugs, the furniture,
Replenished by a new renter.  There could be
Odds and ends tucked away, walls punctured,
Decades of disrepair.  He claimed it was wildly
Offensive to use the awl at all, which posture
Teetotalers could accept for their steady
Telecommunication.  I had given up.
Old people’s homes were not a place to end up.


Produce took a truck to the market.  Sculpture.
Replicas of composers, busts of Italy,
Ominous figurines of saints for the rapture.
Disreputable rogues have hustled scraggly
Unhoped for dreams into wild conjecture.
Replaying the episode for the rosy
Resistant.  In spring we’ll plant some turnips
Exonerate board games with pawns and bishops.

Prognosis prospects rescue before adventure.
Repossess these days we lend ourselves, rookie.
One-way tickets seem fun, and now this signature
Getaway car will jazz up our scene, a dandy
Negation of one vehicle, a subculture
Occurrence where some pedestrians deeply
Scrutinize car owners.  Then mixing up
Incorrigible misfortune make mockup

Prohibitions of lines, district departure,
Reprehensible to the nth degree.
One-parent families become an armature.
Indescribable memories, too fluffy.
Brotherly affection hugging texture,
Intrusion of clouds into a floppy
Reprisal for a kiss or a buttercup
Exhibiting its hue, its petals scallop.

© 2014 Maglia Weaver Twill


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Theres heaps in this to think and filter through and try to comprehend. Seems like a time in life. A moment of change.

Posted 2 Years Ago



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Added on November 29, 2014
Last Updated on November 29, 2014