Dramatic Monologue

Yeah, these are a lot harder to do than I thought:

CANON

The sky is flat.
Objects descend from it, pointing down at me,
They never fall.
The ground is endless,
Unlike the sky.
I travel, I see, I remember every time I’m
Told to.
I’m a constant companion.
I go everywhere with them,
Crowds of people dip and sway in front of me,
Landscapes are manipulated for me,
Animals are made to pose and do tricks because of me.
My companions do play on words with my name.
They deepen their voice,
Look through me, aim and say
Tell it to my Mother Fuckin’ CANON!

Edits

SO I turned in my portfolio for this poetry class I took to kill time this semester, and half way through the semester my teacher had this condition and had to sit the semester out. My class received a new teacher. He told me that I should "put stress on the poem" that "there was more to the poem" than I realize. Okay, that sounds great and all but I had no idea what he was talking about.
Then he gave me an example with Palpation (the last posted poem). I thought it was awesome, a little mystery, a little sexual innuendo (who doesn't like those?)

So here is Palpation, revised:


Palpation

I remember the first time I did it.
Pulled the glove on,
Rubbed the lubricant in.
A tight fit. One where you’d have to sooth her.
Inhaling deep, stroking her thighs
Whispering to her.
Deep breath, sigh, time to go in.
Angled for easy access.
She squeezes.
I continue to go in, forcing it.
Warmth engulfs me, it embraces me.
Deeper I move until I hit a wall.
Pushing past it, I continue deeper
Until I’m buried within her body.
She clenches up.
There’s no space.
It is too tight. I can’t breathe. I pull out.
She rejects me.