Frank Corcoran

irish composer

A TERRIBLE SONNET FOR CHRISTMAS 2018

A TERRIBLE SONNET

How nice if our dawg, Flippy learned to write
A Canine Sonnet, whinge and whistle, all
His doggy sounds, his very little soul.
‘Twould charm’n console me, all this blessed night.

His octet could be all about his food,
Our mythic journey up from Italy,
Our neighbours’ dogs, so proudly running free.
His sestet, then, just might attempt the lewd.

This night so cold, ” -poor Flippy has no soul…”
Cartesian vivisectors have none either .
( I’d like to try on them the old meat-saw,

A Saudi princeling had as his black goal… )
Nor sense of humour, no nor ethics neither,
His Arab heart breaks decency and law.

Posted under: Humble Hamburg Musings

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