The "he" of the poem is me.
Rimes couées (Challenge)
Midnight, at the antipodes of noon:
The poet hums an old Cole Porter tune;
He'll brew a four-cup pot of coffee soon,
Peer through the blinds at the unsleeping moon:
Dyssomnia can be a writer's boon!
He finds his poet-self producing more!
He risks becoming a gigantic bore!
His Nobel chances might be slim-to-none,
But as he writes, he's surely having fun.
Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas
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Written on 2017-11-01 at 02:35
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