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Bartman's Ball
by D. Xavier BariOn 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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