Revision of my Sestina

 

Random Thoughts In My Head

 

 

Random thoughts are not random.

(At least that's what I tell myself)

There has to be a link somewhere in between

No matter how far off they seem to be.

So for the next few lines

I'll just have to make you believe me.

 

I think of a dog then of my friends and me.

It's not at all random.

You just have to find the connecting lines.

Let me explain myself.

It's as simple as it can be.

There is a picture, me, and a dog in between.

 

Now I think of the word "between."

If I say it enough it sounds funny to me.

If you do it too you will see how true it will be.

There I go again thinking random thoughts that are not random.

I often worry about myself

and how I find these strange connecting lines.

 

Never mind about the lines.

I don't know what to do about this weird word "between."

Oh. Well, it looks like I solved that problem by myself.

I lost my train of thought - now don't you feel sorry for me?

This is the problem with being random.

It's hard to be where you want to be.

 

To be or not to be.

I repeat these Hamlet lines

(Which are of course random)

I wish I had chosen another word besides "between."

I hope Ms. Whitman won't mind me.

I'm not sure about this sestina myself.

 

I want to keep this poem to myself.

In secret let it be

For it is embarrassing me.

I don't know what to do with the rest of these lines.

There are too many factors in between.

Sometimes I wonder if the inventor of the sestina was also random.

 

Here I am at the last three lines.

I myself lost the links between my random thoughts.

But now at last I am free to be me.

 

 

Honestly, not much revision here besides some grammatical errors. I put in some parenthesis because that's how my mind works and this sestina is basically about how my train of thought works (now that I read it over it sounds like I have a mind of a squirrel). I didn't revise much not because I'm vain but because this is honestly how the poem is supposed to be. It's about how I constantly link one end of a conversation to another until I can't find the links anymore. I always think to myself "there is no such thing as a random thought. There is always some subconscious decision for me to be thinking about cherries or dandelions." Anyway, it's a narrative about what goes on in Jessie Kono's mind (not much apparently).