With a touch of disbelief,
Mr Honk listened
to a Gershwin-in-black-and-white,
a fidgeted-with idiosyncrasy
spiced up with corduroy—
the poor man’s velvet—
on the presenescent
intellectual’s back.
So there it was: incident,
emotion, crisis, suspense, climax,
dénouement, and conclusion,
all in the first four minutes.
No wonder the rest of the film
turned soporific.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
hidden pilcrow 
Good evening (well from my position in the world). I enjoyed this poem along and want to feature this on my poetry corner. I will reblog your post and hopefully others will visit your page and read more of your works. Nicely done!
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Thank you kindly. As I read your comment, it’s early morning here in Scotland—and after only four hours of sleep, I may not be at my most coherent. But hey-ho, one only loses their virginity once… or twice, as just happened to me, thanks to you. Believe it or not, despite writing for many years, I’ve never been featured on someone else’s blog before. So this is a first—here, now, with you. You’re more than welcome to visit again.
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