The Shame

 

It was a moment : 

I found myself in a chain dance…snake dance…whata’ya’call it?

I played along…
the whole thing 
being Rachel’s Ass, 
and how I wanted to grip it...
grasp it…
hands on hips, 
but sliding down, 
mounds so round 
and I’m a hound… 
what?
…you gonna judge me?!

So bound to mount 
Rachel at first opening, 
but the opening-was-closing, 
Destiny deals a deadly hand, 
Produces a Man, 
that comes 
and takes 
her away.

 

-The Shame.

V 

EVERYTHING BLUNTED

 

Rory had lost the lust in his loins. The fire…the drive…his flame was extinguished. Rory couldn’t roar anymore.

 

Pills were the cause, fuckin’ pharmaceuticals, gripped him by the testicles and sucked them dry, over time. 

It wasn’t Rory’s fault, but deep inside, he felt it just might be some whacked retribution for the countless extra-marital affairs he had conducted. But those were all behind him…not that he had a choice.

So he settled-in with Joyce, and they tried to make a life of it. Joyce grew apathetic with age and menopause, so there was no real tension between them, good or bad…sexual or otherwise. There was just a plain, dull, and painful resignation - a 'partnership’…coexistence.

The ‘painful’ aspects are dealt with pharmaceutically, as well, and, of course, they blunt the root. There is no cause...no effect. Everything blunted…isn't that what you wanted?

V

TRAPEZE

Above it all

Chalk, grip, fling

Gaily he swings

But failing to grasp

A tampered trapeze...

The untimely release

Forgetting the netting

Faith unforgiving

Inviting the vetting

Sloppier sleeves

Tattered dressings

Billow down

While below,

stands Blinky,

Helplessly.

The frown

Painted on,

but real terror

in his eyes

and while panic erupts,

curtains are drawn

on the crumpled,

...and the clown

No, Blinky’s not crying

Just shedding a tear

An artist lies dying,

and for Blinky,

                     
                …too near.

V