Saturday, March 27, 2010


A gunshot in the temple, tempered by cocaine;
Barbiturates, so honeyed dreams shall never fade;
Or seppuku and its seizing, searing pain
As tenderly nurtured flesh meets the whetted blade;

Plunge a dagger into one's own neck, and wailing
Screeching, screaming qualis artifex pereo;
Or must it be by self-immolation, flailing,
Buckling, gyrating in an obscene rodeo;

Fall upon one's sword, or trust one's loyal maiden
To smuggle in an asp and to it surrender;
Perhaps a ripened apple, cyanide-laden
To exit without pain, and go out in splendour;

Which is it truly, the most beautiful way
To pass into freedom, and escape from today?

(a-b-a-b c-d-c-d e-f-e-f g-g)

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Ode to a Trolley Dolly

By all means you should be pushing a trolley
Twenty-one thousand feet in the air, your face
Plastered with creams of all kinds - Chinese holly,
Acai berry, ginseng - ground into pomace,
That overlaid with rouge and baby powder
Till your beauty cannot scream any louder
And yet gilded with lipstick and mascara,
Guaranteed to make you look an apsara.

But you choose to inflict that upon mortals
In some attempt to inveigle them into
Parting with money; while you thought it was true
That your MBA learning opened portals.

And we children of a lesser god look on
The principles that the Higher Gods work on.