John F. Masare
jfmasare@yahoo.com |
Saurian Sorrows
Assured, insured, we lie by the merchant
and mercenary banks of the ritzy rivieras,
Wearily weep for the wriggling remnants which
drift by, muddying the waters and fouling
the air with their horse groans and pleas
which are uttered in strange, strident tongues.
We bask in the rays of a well temperated sun,
reassured by political profits of our innocence,
albeit inanimate, of our normal neutrality,
albeit neutered, but pause as certain
stray syllables manage to make themselves
malignantly meaningful.
Keep your synthetic saurian sorrows and
shallow saltless tears to water the verily
strange vines which have overgrown the
dumpy, stumpy windowboxes of your
shrivelled up, white washed, so called souls ...!
Eh? |
