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Surrogate Poet

The poet sends his apologies, that due 
to unforseen circumstances he cannot keep 
this engagement. Now before you leave,
 
I must relate to you that he waited here 
at the prescribed time and place for you 
to appear. He primped his prosody
 
and honed his recession of technique; 
alliterated until sated that his rhythm
and meter were not offbeat. But something
 
happened while considering the subjunctive 
mood and the juxtaposition of an overstressed
line. Suddenly, he spoke of copula and half
 
meaning. I thought this to be an epithet
of the personification of his state of mind.
He then proceeded to spew out gibberish
 
in abstraction. Violette the triolet is short
but can pack a wallop. Ah! But Emanuelle
the villanelle really likes her escargot.
 
The tension threshold seemed high and true 
to the law of simplified focus and in a total inversion
he shouted out, Give me release from this 
enjambment. And end-stopped his persona.

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