Arse Poetica

I

Are you dying, honey?
You followed your plan,
Earned a little money,
And made sense of things.

But, is it done?
Has the path been run?
What perilous wonders, what laistragonians you saw?
The vacuum rings bells
While the cat licks its paw.

The blue bird sings.
The silence will thaw.


II

In the beginning, there was a PPT
Summarising the benefits of the Word.
The Good Lord could see
How slick presentations would solve the Absurd,
And give meaning to all Earth and Heaven.

But yesterday, at half-past seven
A divine aporia came to me
And asked with concern, “O Twiddle Dee,

How will you now play your card?
The file’s corrupted, haven’t you heard?”


III

Now is the summer of my, oh what?
What the fuck!
I have forgotten my part,
And, given my luck,
I have all of you staring at me.

Can you pretend you could see
My smokes and mirrors,
And the earnest heart?

Rhyme and rhema go in hand in hand.
I mourn the Ithaca buried in sand.


IV

Are you dying, honey? Are you dying?
Farewell my Celia,
Time’s aflying.