Carmina Mucronis: 6


It has been nine months now since that first day: your debut
    an outstanding success among the togas and tent poles, when Linus
of the fat ass dragged you down to the Forum with him
    for all to gape and gawk. With you a veritable Galatea,
I, frozen as Parian marble where I stood, watched you take
    your mincing steps, a puppy hang-dogged and heeled in
the dreggy-dark shadow of a senator’s wide passing.
    How soon I found how the necessity of trouble is
multiplied when money’s involved; tripled when love is involved;
    quadrupled when money, love and beauty conspire to spin
like Nona, Decima, Morta: haggishly spinning, spanning,
    and spurning the bladed dross – namely ourselves daily watching
the sun and stars post their gains on the char-black stone
    of the weather-whittled stele – but never any shameful losses
are tacked on for public viewing – ourselves always the one deduction
    which our own vainglory accounts for but fails to delete.
But remember how I soon conducted things? Your onyx eyes, skittish,
    almond-shaped, precious – and plucked for me alone,
who devoured an acre of orchards but never enough, stealing away
    bushels from their owners, with nothing but figs paid in return.


  1. I like this one! I think I’ll bring it to the next poetry night on campus and find out what your fan-club thinks of it….

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