E. Judas Wagtail’s Party
They bring a table in. Bread and wine
come next. Thirteen chairs are filled.
Virtuous men pass by. They frown,
I sneer back, plotting my revenge.
Wagtail, they say, give up the booze.
Hell! I love to drink, to rock and roll
and if I hurt others I can’t help myself.
You do too but won’t admit it.
Why be shocked? The word is out.
Haven’t you heard? A dog is roaring.
Howling at your gate. A razor tongued,
son of a bitch, out to get you good!
My eyes spit fire as my throat curls
into an ash can cacophony of spite
but the kiss I give is all tenderness,
understanding more than I know.
Scott Malby
Posted over on A Little Poetry
No comments:
Post a Comment