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The poem below is my initial attempt to compose an
“etheree,” a form to which I was introduced a couple of days ago in the group
“Poetry, Poetry, Poetry” by the poet, Jane Lynahan Karklin. The form gets its
name from the given name of an obscure poet from Arkansas who invented and
developed the form, Etheree Taylor Armstrong, about whom more here:
The form is simple: line one has one syllable; line
two has two, and so on, for a total of ten lines.
The Hangnail
A
hangnail
can kill you
if it invites
the right kind of bug
to play trout up your blood-
stream. I want to live forever;
but, please God, not as an old man.
The flesh grows soft as the years mount up.
The hangnail's pain: your path to salvation.
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