Monday, July 11, 2011

A Female Dog Named Nostalgia

I’m drowning in my own nostalgia
Forgetting the present for the past
A Goddamn Nocturne
I make
Toward winters last
Where I shall eat stale bread
Sipped Curdled milk from a wine glass
To be
Adrift upon that cabin at sea--
The likes of which our fathers were probably born in
But Weren't--
Safe, alas.
After all I know what's there
And My memories could reform...
For after all if it was a wine glass then surely it was wine?
Why shouldn't I whine for what was mine
To forsake time
For that fresh bread and that sweet wine
That never was
Yet so vivid
Is it
In my memory

The day has not ceased
Yet that flighty king seems to have benighted me
To his court where the light can no longer lour’d overhead
And give my feats a rest

The Light
Which brings warmth and worn
Which seeks to remind me that my time is not yet done with me
“Do You wish it to be?”
“Of course not” said me
“Then wise up or I’ll take it from thee”

Such tyrannic rhetoric, I do not wear lightly
“Who are thee to tell me what is Right, [L]ight”
So I cast away that heir that keeps me afloat
And I drown
Forever Defiant
Tyrannical Truth

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