If and his brother Yet
will only be in town forever:
that's time to fight,
but not to plan.
They're barely speaking,
but their playing c-low
for my coffers:
whoever loses will be mad.
But madder still -
(I hold my breath...)
as mad as hell;
as mad as death -
will be the winner
when he finds there's nothing left
There's nothing left.
Temptation and her sister Pride
are giggling in the corner:
so smug that they
were asked for proof
And from the lofty perch
of just before the service entrance,
they're sending pitchers
to my booth.
Pride wins the toss.
I see her rise,
but when she looks
into my eyes,
she tells her sister,
"Never mind: there's nothing left."
There's nothing left.
Safe Harbor's
wicked sister Storm
has come into my dreams,
and she is driving me insane.
Compassion's
dimwit Uncle Pity
fills my purse with adverbs,
and wonders why I curse his name.
Safe Harbor lives
in blessed dark.
Compassion lurks
in Central Park,
and cries, "You're absolutely right:
there's nothing left."
There's nothing left.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
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