Poem: Tonight's Festivities

I never give up
on a poem.  Three
words makes a quorum.  Seven
and I’m committed to the oceanic.
I’m loyal like the Titanic.
Others with more
legal minds exercise judgment
rapidly and with
certitude. Not
me.  I’m
compulsive.  I think
I’ve got a
problem.

No putting the brakes on sounds.
Cries, whispers,
teasing, singing
out, in, down, up, across, through
and under every
activity. Hello,
hello, nice
to see you!
My good wife
in the next room, tasting
spleen:  “Would you PLEASE
take part in tonight’s
festivities?”

I’m still paying child
support on poems
from five years ago.
Imperfect? Yes.
I add words   here
subtract    there
eventually