Fiddletree

Should I work on my poetry,
and my fiddling,
every damned day?

Well, maybe take Saturday
off from fiddling,
and definitely from poetry

too. Feeling like a castaway
whose scrape-y fiddling,
every damned day,

totally gets in the way
of the flirty-er fiddling
of the grim poetry

obsessives playing keep away
with death, who's fiddling
all the damned day

himself. Riddle
me this, fiddling
fate: You choose the damned day.
I'll bring my fiddle.



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