Why I Don't Get Invited to Many Parties

Another evening ends. I'm at the balustrade.
I'm looking down a hundred feet at crashing
Surf, about to puke. I need to sleep. I recollect
A ruined night of efforts made to woo a
Matron, altogether unimpressed, in taffeta,
I think it was, a beauty, someone else's,
Though, who seemed, at first, to take to
Me, but ultimately changed her mind.
I may have drunk and talked too much,
And she, so shyly smiling when I started,
Winced and turned away, and sidled toward
Her boring husband, bound to him by
Chains of money, maybe merely fear
And rote adherence to convention.
Anyway, I think she broke my heart.
I scan the frigid ocean, tethered to the
Balustrade, and just as well, as I'm adrift.
Another evening ends in sorrow. Soon
Enough, I'll surely puke, and she will
Sail away, a vision, figurehead, beyond
My reach, and I will weave my way to bed.
It's time for me to sleep.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 67 times
Written on 2014-01-09 at 02:34

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