Thomas C. Hall
Not a DADAist Sonnet
The asphalt had tried and failed to be a goat.
Tall people have an edge when suffocating.
The lamb had a piquant, nutty flavor.
With the brightest, lightest mini-mall
The trio of pigs wept quietly.
A boy that was puking his dreams in color.
The fuzzy animals stayed where they belonged.
He pocketed the change. The change.
Earth shattering sounds from above.
Isn't it time to open the damn door?
Large circles, waves and houses. Repeat.
Smeared with his current colors.
DADA died before it was dead
So don't say it. O.K. Sonnet's future.
Tom Hall lives in California with his partner and their dog, Nicky He's seen his poetry published in a number of journals, always sonnets. This is his first attempt to publish a DADAist sonnet.