Summer Values – A Poem

 

Summer Values

Wary and suspicious
a justice buries himself in the
shadows of a liquor cabinet. He lacks confidence.

“I am attached to the sparing of summer values and
grant reconciliation to November’s barren days,”
he says.

The letter from The Office of the Superior
lays torn in half on the carpet. It smells of internal networking.
A dog in a neighbor’s yard lets out a low moan and smells apples
in the air.

“If only his children… If only his children…”
Mrs. Witherbon utters to the crowd assembled
in the parlor who had come for dinner.
They look down at their hands and shake their heads.
“If only, if only,” they repeat in unison.

“A mantra!” the justice screams. “A mantra?
That is my compensation? No more. Please. The blood of my children
will shake the earth!”

Elsa, the daughter of the justice, examines the number of scratches
in the dinnerware and finds it suitable.
She is alone in the dining room except for Raymond the parrot who is
caged in the corner. With a smile she takes comfort in the
secret she has kept.

“It is a temporary madness. So much stress and now this.
What can one expect?” Mrs. Witherbon reassures.
The crowd is uncomfortable with her desperation being so
visibly displayed.
They nod, shuffle and appear concerned.

“Take flight you peacemakers,” the justice warns,
“for I will have your heads.”

In the town of Ruxberg some distance away
The Office of the Superior
asks a young woman if she would like to see a movie.
And she, overcome by the charm of His Elevation,
backs away from him and into the glass
of a storefront window. He can only laugh a chirping
cough-like chuckle in remorse
for the scandal.

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Broken – A Poem

Broken

You break me
you should
undress in the half-light

The Patriarch’s slumbering lust
chills

your fingers
turning grapes red
with blood

I fear the omens
shuttered in the tresses of your dark hair

voices
released and feeble
haunt our naked passage through the hall
you step past me

feet stained a ghastly blue
light
weightless

beyond living

the crystal faces of the dead
appear
full of a blind malicious
trust
to stare helpless at my submission

You bind me
you should