Friday, April 23, 2010

the cad

it must be sad
to be a cad
and have women every hour
fall like flowers

into your lap
when you're trying to take a nap
or want some solitude
to sit in a somber mood

and create unflinching perfect art
but how can you start
when these myriad creatures
with their softly shifting features

will not go away
but multiply every day
lining up for miles
in kaleidoscopic styles

and wind through city blocks
stopping the tower clocks
of the haughty bourgeoisie
who hate art and poetry

o apollo shed a tear!
but poet, try to persevere
though the world be misbegotten
you will never be forgotten

your words will be on lips
when thinking machines and rocket ships
are wiped from time's black shining slate
immortality shall be your fate

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