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Bartman's Ball

by D. Xavier Bari

On the fringes of imagination,
the collective psyche of the fanatic,
there resides a tapestry called legend.

The realm of the curses,
where Bambinos continue to speak
decades after they ruled the Earth--
ritual rites and seasonal celebrations
coalescing beneath the glare
of a thousand halogen stars.

We paint ourselves,
the colours of pop-culture nations--
gathering in the name of idols
at the vortex of fame and trivia
on an off-season day
(like so many others yet)
to dance and drink and pontificate.

As yesterday's phantoms,
and tomorrow's disappointment,
scatter to atoms...

02/26/2004

Posted on 02/27/2004
Copyright © 2025 D. Xavier Bari

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Leslie Ann Eisenberg on 02/29/04 at 06:28 PM

i am stunned by the imagery and language. the opening stanza is phenomenal. a brilliant, searing, original social commentary.

Posted by Lori I Wolfe on 02/29/04 at 07:18 PM

Astounding!! It leaves one speachless!

Posted by David Maurice on 04/08/12 at 11:01 AM

It's funny to think we all have our own ball, in the end.

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