This time we had to write a story that involves a coffin. How does a sonnet sound?

I patronized a local bar
He asked me if I came here often
A man too close with his cigar
Named Marty Coughlin

A cheerful bloke who liked to boast
About the ladies he would consort
Debutantes he liked the most
And last night’s escort

Normally a man like he
Would prompt me to pray intercessions
But flowing beer unearthed with glee
My indiscretions

My trust bestowed with ribald tale
Encouraged him to open further
About his favored lady Gail
With heightened fervor

A gorgeous blonde he met last week
Whose ass could stop a long procession
And tattooed on her tight left cheek
The word “Obsession.”

His final word cut like a knife
For now I knew who came here often
The bed where he had laid my wife
Became his coffin

K: Oh, hell. I have high expectations for rhyming poetry, and this met them. It’s playful, yes, but is a complete story as well, with memorable characters and excellent gallows humor. I’ll go back to this one in the future, again and again. GOLD

CW: Poetry is the bane of my existence. I don’t know what this type of poem is supposed to be called though. And I don’t care. In any other week, this would have won gold. You guys are freaking amazing. – SILVER

Bingo. This is the first time (except perhaps in college) that I’ve written a sonnet. My favorite poem of all time is Miniver Cheevy and I tried to honor its spirit here. I jumped all the way to second place after this showing. The season is halfway over and it’s looking good that I’ll get a playoff spot. It’s certainly not guaranteed, though, as the top eight writers are pretty closely bunched.