Escape Artist

The sonnet I posted yesterday -- the last one I had written -- was composed while walking around during lunch hour sometime in late 2006 (I seem to recall). I wrote it down when I got back to the office. Imagine my surprise when the first couple of lines of a new sonnet popped into my head this morning. A rough draft is now complete:

                   Escape Artist

A mixed assemblage emphasizing paint

Unlocks a window into further gloom;

It tells a tale of madness and constraint,

Of soaring flights and falling off a broom.

Is that a whiff of sulphur in the air,

From someone’s leaky cauldron, on display?

It stains the nostrils, hampering your fair

And balanced appetite for work and play.

So raise your tarnished chalice and declaim

To angels and blithe spirits found on high

That no mere trace of matter will remain

Of those who gravely hunger for your sigh.

This multiverse is stranger than it seems.

Unbind those stays and ship out on the beams.