Through force of Will came sonnets into being,
Deliberately chosen as a form
Requiring glibness, and perhaps foreseeing
The poem’s liberation from the norm-
Instead of celibate and mannered verse,
That rarely touches on libidinous matter,
These sonnets are both liberal and perverse;
A library of flippancy and smatter.
Like Caliban on Sycorax’s isle,
I take great liberties to claim descendence,
With quodlibets, the mantle of Will’s style,
Though fallible to pride and lacking essence.
My caliber’s discernible through bluster
Even within this yearlong filibuster.