Victorian Shackles

November 25, 2009

Whenever I see a Georgia license plate
As a vehicle clamors by, or
After I watch the Brave play
Above the Earth before stars and sky,
As many lies I’ve heard Newt postulate
(The man is evil, he should resign)
They are infinitesimal compared to the times
That I’ve tried to rectify the denial.

Separated like the peaches pit
From a fruit more sweet than sour
A dimple no simple soul could resist
In my mind spare time is devoured
By the narcotic of your beauty (laconic yet vivacious)
Ostentatious beguiling with sardonic smiling
I cannot deny the seconds I miss
Nor the Victorian shackles of beauty and bliss.

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