A little something from class…. an impossible poem

I am baffled by your pentameter who crabwalks over my sandy tongue

smirked at by your similes and a fool to your mischievous metaphors

who play hopscotch on my vowels

I’m left salivating while the consonants undress

the assonance does caress

and desert

the enjambment,

tease and flirt

and while the caesura conquers all

I am left to fall

down a skyscraper of rhetorical questions.