Yesterday Kat Myrman and I were ruminating names for poetry forms along the lines of Essence, which always makes me think of Gasoline. The French for fuel oil is also a fun word—mazout—which could be the name for a fun poetry form. I thought of this one while I was struggling to get out of bed this morning.


There once was a man

Whose dog drank a can

Of paint for the rooms he’d rewired.

Dog went on a spree,

Did pee after pee

Of rainbows before he expired.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

17 thoughts on “Mazout”

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