Adrenaline Etudes

His shitty cologne has conquered the room,
And all that is left to me is inadequate
Bleating. I beg for love, and the queen
Of the room, in her chair, in her majesty,
Motions. She's done. It's time I should
Go. He'll be back after work. I'll be
Back where I was, on the edge of the
Waterway, walking alone. With the
Moon in abeyance below the horizon,
I bay at the bay, as she mimics a courtesan,
Counting the cash, and ignoring entreaties
From no-ones, like me, while imploring
Her lord, the one with a job, to be kind.
“Never mind what your underlings say,
I suggest that you use less cologne.”


Promise me Jessica: even as
Pendula swing, and burghers,
In ignorance, sing of the
Virtues of kleptocrats clad
In the raiment of righteous
Redeemers, that you will be
Mine. I am sick in my soul,
On my way to a window, a
Rifle, a tool, the last that I have
With much hope of releasing
The kleptocrats' grips. With my
Shot, will we not see the chaos
Ensue, and some burghers garroted,
The lowly brought high, an abrupt
Rearrangement which brings
To the fore for a moment, at least,
What they promised we'd have,
A sort of equality? Just for
A moment. The pendula
Swing, and they'll bring
Back the burghers, and
Thrust down the low. I'll
Have failed. We'll both
Know it. Nevertheless,
Will you see me in jail,
And be mine?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 25 times
Written on 2010-03-03 at 15:09

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