Sunday, June 26, 2016

Worst Nightmare

And so I asked him, "Who the hell are you?"
To which he answered, "Your worst nightmare, mate."
He grabbed the breakfast sausage off my plate
And stuffed it in his mouth, started to chew,
Then threw a roll in my direction, too.
"That's it? That's all you've got? At any rate,
I'm not impressed," I sneered. "It's getting late,
And my worst nightmare isn't coming true."

He shrugged. "You want more effort? Here's the deal:
I'll do as much as anybody would,
Annoying you, by pulling down your hood
Over your face, say, or spreading corn meal
On your clean laundry. No one cares. You feel
Hurt, bub? Too bad for you. Does that feel good?"

Monday, June 13, 2016

Passion, Fear, and Rue

I can't stand being near you any more.
Your speech revolts me, I feel only hate
For how you scrape the wax beans from your plate,
Your eyes bug out like saucers; you're a bore;
Among the things I can only deplore
Are your aversion to the truth, your mate,
And your devotion to the second-rate.
I liked you once; I can't recall what for.

Despising those who spend their time with you,
I'm torn between not caring and ennui,
Between distress and baffled urgency.
What matters is that people passing through
Should comprehend my passion, fear, and rue
As simple, heartfelt animosity.

Saturday, June 04, 2016

Better Than the Truth

The worst excuses you might dare to try
Are better than the truth. Don't argue, please,
Just listen: even sparrows in the trees
Would urge you to attempt a stinking lie,
King Arthur's finest knights from days gone by
Would tell you, "Obfuscate." Just shoot the breeze,
Pretend to think of where you left your keys;
Exonerate; stay neutral; vilify.

Before you really tell them what occurred,
Remember who they are, and what they want,
Which isn't good seats at a restaurant
Or tickets to a sold-out show. You've heard,
Perhaps, of honesty? Don't be absurd.
Just say, "I'm off to swim the Hellespont."