Sep 122017

I see a world of broken dreams,
mangled forms they failed to take,
gadflies on a soul not mine,
insouciant songs, dabbled in
colors they never knew.

This unmoving maelstrom
no seed of hope can hope to pierce.
Fly elsewhere perfidious pollen,
seek not to sully this
confection with the grating
melody of youth.

Why do I inveigh against
a cast too great,
an everchanging litany of
misnamed misdeeds,
clever devices of artless authors,
unoriginal not ineffective.

The parade is distant
touching me, but not upon me.
Disgust alone breeds no tears,
a quiescent enigma.

Why must I watch,
moved unmoving,
a relic of morality,
another’s hysteric,
sounding the hours til morn
in somber peals of silence.