A Poem for Alfred Booth

I promised Alfred Booth that I would sharpen my pencil and make an attempt at his latest favorite, the Cleave poem. So it is only fitting that my first one be dedicated to him.

Master Cleaver

Alfred Booth twitters -- the whole world flitters

across the daunted page -- as though upon a stage

with words so rich with meaning -- of drama's din not weaning

never failing to enthrall -- right through the curtain call