Sunday, September 6, 2020

Not Even Not Zen 214: Sonnet 11.6

By Leyram Odacrem via Wikimedia Commons
Sonnet 11.6 

Let me not to the marriage of true fools 
Admit encouragements. Lovers escape 

That which impedes them by breaking the rules 
Or by making their beds in the landscape. 

Wise fools know they're simply suckers and marks, Always blown over, easily taken, 

Loved in the dirt of our national parks, 
Hearts awakened by our bodies shaken. 

Everyone is a fool, in love or not, 
And it's better that our hearts be beguiled 

Like our bodies, hot in a sweaty knot, 
Than to be the same suckers undefiled. 

When we're not in error, it's just by chance. To error for love is how we advance.

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