|
cost of living
by Laura Doom...
on the second day
she created her finest myth
a veil so vile, it shrouded
earth in anagrams, reducing
men to laughing stocks, if only
butts of superannuated jokes;
fair womankind, in modest pelt
performs its improviso dressing down.
Stars die, spelling out disaster
...
sentiment and satire dance
the circular eccentric,
a core reflexive index
that prides itself on chastity
and lays the ghost of fruitless hope
by yielding to its destiny.
The aggregation sings of urges past
accordant with the key that orders them
to cede the role of procreation.
...
on the last day
she ascended into hell
and saw it was good;
too good to be true
all sweeteners and lite
blood, sweat and laughter
with expenses on account
of indefinite deferral
for nothing is taken to heart. 03/20/2010 Posted on 03/20/2010
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 03/20/10 at 06:17 PM this gets better every time I read it. which is only just to say ... |
| Posted by Jason Moskalyk on 04/15/10 at 10:32 PM Hahaha. the first stanza is great! No cost to bear but the equanimity that comes with well crafted verse! Thanks! |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 05/22/10 at 11:51 AM I never took you for a creationist. ;) Aw, but the havoc you inspire is delicious chaotica that is also too good to be true. You must have a biological urge to spit impassioned verse --poems are your offspring that I gladly adopt into my soul and raise as orphaned thoughts that keep me safe from the banal. |
|
