My naym is pome / and lo my form is fix’d

Tho peepel say / that structure is a jail

I am my best / when formats are not mix’d

Wen poits play / subversions often fail

Stik out their toung / to rebel with no cause

At ruls and norms / In ignorance they call:

My words are free / Defying lit'rate laws

To lik the forms / brings ruin on us all

A sonnet I / the noblest lit'rate verse

And ruls me bind / to paths that Shakespeare paved

Iambic fot / allusions well dispersed

On my behind / I stately sit and wave

You think me tame /

Fenced-in and penned / bespelled

I bide my time /

I twist the end / like hell

* “lik” should be read as “lick”, not “like”. In general, the initial section on each line should be read sort of phonetically.

Written for World Poetry Day, March 21, 2018. When I had this idea earlier today, I thought it was the worst, most faux hip pretentious idea for a shallow demonstration of empty wordsmithing skill in poetry ever. So I had to try to write it. I mean, how often do you get to fuse the iambic dimeter of bredlik - one of the newest and most exciting verse forms - with the stately iambic pentameter of the classic sonnet?