Monday, September 12, 2011


Just tried writing a Petrarchan sonnet for my Adv Creative Writing class-- I hadn't written a sonnet in FOREVER, so this was a pretty difficult one.  I'm pretty happy with how it turned out though, and as always feedback is welcome!


I’ve devoured your body every day
from the first time I grasped you in my hand
(your taste can’t be found in just any land).
Golden skin, striking smells, all that won’t betray;
your massive, meaty, and pinkened fillet—
such firmness is always in high demand.
Our love, a blaze, continuously fanned,
or so I assumed until your display.
Scarfing down Wok Chang’s take-out, so slimy;
it drips down my throat, into my hip bones.
Junk that should last for all its rumored flack,
Oily and dense enough to make me weigh
as much as a handful of pebbles; stones
batter against my ruined stomach-sack.

Battering ‘gainst my ruined stomach-sack
remnants of worlds long forgotten crash in
nauseating waves of ripe red, akin
to pomegranate seeds— translucent; black
like the bile in her throat making her crack
and break down enough to manage saimin.
She basked in the haze achieved through some gin
so when he called she did not call back.
The savory smell of an apple tart,
ambrosial steak cooked medium rare,
both of those dishes once tasted divine
before a food-loving boy broke her heart
before, when food could drown any despair,
before, when everything tasted sublime.

1 comment:

  1. Sarah (Ciafoletti?),

    Quite tasty! Ha ha, read it a couple of times now and I quite like it. It sort of veers towards being a bit too explicit for my taste at the end--after toying with so much food imagery and sexy verbs. Reminded me, at first, of the old Alfred Hitchcock adage, "Shoot loves scenes like a murder and murders like love scenes."