Sonnet: Rooftop Attenuation
by John Kendall Hawkins
.
I woke up this morning and found that I was God.
Like an antenna repairman's, a lonely gig;
no one watching free-to-air anymore. How odd
and I wondered how long ago I'd lost the jig,
I felt relegated, bracketed off, unManned.
When a magpie swooped I almost fell off my ladder.
Everything's black and white now since I got shitcanned
by syphilitic Nietzscheans. Oy, my bladder.
Dreaming, astral projecting really, I zoomed down
to visit one multi-iteration of me;
gorgeous little man with a devastating frown
showed me to the toilet so I could take a pee.
I'm a one-man diaspora now, all spread out;
bum prostate, my dark cathedrals filled with self-doubt.
