Crown Moldering, Pg 31
Numerically speaking, we're now entering the third and final act of our three-act sonnet sequence, so we're scheduled to wrap it up in, oh, let's say the middle of August somewhere.
A Scent's Assent
He saunters, not a hint of awkwardness About his movements, flowing sweet as fire. Dolores, trying not to stare, selects A protein bar, a heated argument Among her schoolmates raising ruffled fur And growls. The guy's a feline, after all. The student body's ninety-eight percent canine. The whole school's aware. He hears them, Casey does, their yips and all Alive with bitter scents of awkwardness. Remaining smooth, he doesn't look, the fur Beneath his shirt on edge, a tickling fire He knows. It follows matching arguments From other schools his science course selects. Universities should be more universal. "Should" is the key word. In class, Dolores carefully selects A seat in back of Casey, watching all The rest digress, off-topic arguments Concerning species, full of awkwardness. The room of canines almost seems on fire With ears and whiskers folded close to fur. Students of science should be— There's that "should" again. Stupid subjunc...
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