The uneasiness didn’t go away; like a promise of
freedom from despondency needs joyous events
to cement cracks in th’ masonry, we never made
the grade nor a progression’s demands - lesions
persist where the scene once forever lead and a
wholistic vista resists caricatures of dated ideas;
this isn’t the promised land is it ‘n who are these
drek idiosyncrasies of mountebank burlesque -
Well, realistically, you can say - you had to wake
up to it eventually or miss tomorrow’s boat since
it left yesterday - this is what you inherited when
you turned the page; so you scan thru memory -
and confess not reading that book, or of playing
the character out of antiquity in this epic mess
© 8 June 2016, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment