Bring me your strangest word, your fiercest theme—
I’ll wrestle syllables until they sing.
No subject is too narrow for a dream.
Name rusted gears or courtly pomp supreme,
A paperclip, a plague, a broken wing—
Bring me your strangest word, your fiercest theme.
Command a sonnet forged of engine steam,
Or odes to onions crowned as if a king;
No subject is too narrow for a dream.
Give me the language of a half-heard scream,
Statistics bent like light in early spring—
Bring me your strangest word, your fiercest theme.
Bid rhyme embrace the arcane and obscene,
Make meter march where misfit meanings cling;
No subject is too narrow for a dream.
So test the reach of ink and its extreme—
Set flint to page and see what sparks I bring.
Bring me your strangest word, your fiercest theme—
No subject is too narrow for a dream.