Softening The Relic- A Big, Dumb Sestina. by D.M. Jerman

I found out this summer that this is a form in which I hate writing. It's meant to build lyrics, and serves to be a good exercise, but I'm getting to the point where it makes more sense to just build my own dang form. Back to the dreaming board...<3


Tonight's victims of paperboard intrigue

In tomorrow’s daylight wish to admonish

that starry glare of hours past midnight

where fools not forced to change

leaked their accidents of wit

like a thawed a strain of agency.


This town laid of no agency

traded it’s daylight for jesus intrigue

a treasure sure to admonish

those gentle amputations of midnight

boiled toward change

but not wit.


When solitary soul’s wit

aboard a tour of agency

opens an intrigue

only to admonish

all who lease on midnight

risks unwelcome change.


Yet so far change

caps that fat stack of wit

with a marching agency

recording intrigue

what rebellion’s admonish

in the creased midnight.


A poor soldier is midnight

for whom change

is sin, is art, is wit

zero sum agency

joining intrigue

on a high game to admonish.


Suffer those procedures admonish

unfurnished midnight

they scour no change

nor rib of wit

carving free the agency

from simple paperboard intrigue.


Ah, too easily change and intrigue

rub the wit of midnight

solely to admonish the false cascade of agency.