Tear from the mother her wrinkled new one
order to the front the perfect only son
drive a daughter wailing from her father's home
swear the gods no more in heaven roam
carve in old columns blasphemous graffitti
quarter the vassal proferring the treaty
banish moonshine off the chilly tarn
bludgeon roses, stifle music's charm
gutter-decant a ten year burgundy
redden, tetra-ethylate the sea
blurt the blushful sins confided thee
arm yourself with smiling perjury
but never from your heart my love remove
all, to that, is little to reprove.
Morgan Michaels
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-sonnet-12/
