He was the
Grand architect
Of his own misery,
Alone and undone,
He wallowed in
Failure and held
It up as a revolutionary
Banner and as he drank
A bottle of Malbec
And listened to an
Old record of U2’s
‘New Year’s Day’
With the muffled
Sounds of traffic
Outside and he
Smoked a joint to
Numb the sorrow
Of his descent,
For he had
Become
A monster,
And wondered
Whether he too
Like Dante would
Experience an ascent,
And who will be his
Virgil?
No comments:
Post a Comment