Triptych

Paramecium, dull and void
With swift flagellates on your side
Your carbon pressed and aged in stone
Helps to get me to my home.

Igneous time spilling forth:
Slow-metered increments of worth
Metamorphisize with age
In a fortnight are a wage.

Eyes expand to take in light
Contradicting evening’s right
Yet cannon change their shape to stem
Their natural myopia.


This poem has numerous problems, including the misuse of words and the use of so-called "non-words."

I still like it.

And let's face it: Assonance - it's the new rhyme.