Every sonnet that you write is almost
always about the trying to write a
poem, and dramas built on what almost
happened: desires never quite fulfilled,
even failures never fully failed.
People like to be lied to, and to lie
is to stay beneath the covers when the
morning peers in, and refuse to put
on underwear and refuse the morning.
The vinegar in the water simmers
invisible as margin white eggs poach.
You stir them into shape, inking awake.
But it must end, just before the lie can
truly lie. And your sonnet is almost—
Morning Sonnet
Morning Sonnet
Himali Singh Soin
Himali Singh Soin is a poet who finds inspiration in miniature things, in traveling to the source, in plotting revolutions, and gluing things together. She writes for ArtForum, CNNGo, Bomb, and elsewhere. She is editor of The Fuschia Tree and curates contemporary art as a means of writing poetry in three dimensions.Â
