Untitled Poem #4

The Goddess sat at my dining table,
Hungry post-bleeding my radiators, resetting my cable;
We ate pheasant feathers, with wild lupin garnish,
I was mindful of slight degradations in varnish.
A sigh, again, and then she explained,
With language renewed and glottis unstained:
“All adverts are lies,
You’ll buy cancer at markets;
Music thought-suicides,
Politicians disasters.
Judiciary one day,
The PR hounds next;
Dogs in a manger,
You are made to forget.
Your brain’s Moses basket,
Nick, think everything twice,
To filter false masters;
In capitalist places
There’s always a price”.

I sat back and sighed,
And at some length replied:
“For fear of losing I cannot engage,
For fear of winning I sin every day;
Put in my place by lesser beliefs,
I sleep through the day,
Midnight’s a relief.
I grew thankful for downpours
Whilst others complained;
No relationship’s selfless,
Ego cannot abstain;
I amass these mistruths,
And call them the rage.
I know wolves do not whistle,
I know the Sun is a Star,
All made by mankind,
Words favour kings, sent from afar”.

We said nothing more, seated in silence,
I saw so much that shone in Her eyelids;
We threw back the shots.
And then she was gone.

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