Sonnet for the Unmarried II, by Tyler Wettig

We’re baking bread. You want music. So
middle Rachmaninoff is blessing the
phonograph: I am again alone. Snug

the mixer whirs the yolky white: we’re
tithing god-king ennui. Woke ankle numb
without a free hand, shoulder un-socketed.

August now: fathers die here. Gallivant
turns procession turns pragmatosis: the
bypass coming around 40; epitaph

“his zest wasn’t in his cooking, but it
sure was in his life” will do.

               Your corpse is smiling.

 

Published 16th October 2018

 

About Tyler Wettig

Tyler Wettig resides in Michigan. His latest chapbook is The Adult Table (Zetataurus, 2018). Tyler’s website:https://www.tylerwettig.wordpress.com.

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