29th January 2014

Sonnet 82


Singular Will focuss'd on his one muse,

 Back in the day we'd naturally ore-look

Those whom we had yet to know, love and use

If they weren't in the telephone book.

We all shared the same peely Wally hew

But flew abroad for some gigolo praise -

Once per annum we got deep tanned anew -

Waiting waiting for  the  white wedding dayes.

Hypermobility's what we devised,

Dodging that dead stasis nation tribes lend;

So when I Skype you that I sympathizde:

There's millions like me could be your musefriend.

    Singularist* sonnets Will might have (m)us'd -

    Would they leave us more or less (dis)abus'd?

*the Singularity - when artificial intelligence will overtake human intelligence.