This poem is yet another tribute to the unfathomable, infinitely ineffable muse calling up new words and word plays to manifest her unending nature.
Not Enough Knew Words
Sew
What’s up
I can’t seam
Too get my fill
In this hole wide whirled
Even with awe the knew words
Odd as my singular soul
Is there knot enough
In the English language
Sew-sew tongue
Twisting
Brain melding
Enjoining hearts
Weather
Kraken me up
Down with vocabulary
Or digging my favorite dinosaur
Thesaurus
Extincts to hi heaven
Sew beyond pros
Countenance yourself lucky
To suck the morrow
Of awe that can be uddered (or knot)
Of an outspoken unspoken word artist
Except it
Fore what is
Just
A moment
Fore English
As a second language
And perhaps ours
