The Catbirds Seat

Every word, please disregard-

These vague entreaties

Broke my heart;

And lured me into labored grieving,

Devoid of praise

And hidden meaning.

Tasteless, mildewed Eucharist

I served with bruised and angry fists;

Resorting to firm reprimand-

Reducing mountains into sand.

The vapors vanish,

Monsters leave-

The purge is crawling down my sleeve.

Rage in torrents,

Waves of blood-

The swift release of wounded doves.

A faithless, wanton infidel

Whose heaven is my privileged hell,

Where few, if any, live to tell.

The burning match,

The fleeting light-

Improving blind and tired eyes.

Spreading like a seamless carpet,

Gardens praised by saint and scholar.

This dried and crumbling wishing well,

Complete with dreams

And loving hells

Now slakes the vagrant mother’s thirst;

This lily rises from the earth.

A throne you all but compromised,

With arrogant dismissive lies.

This kingdom you assumed you ruled,

With crescent wrench and rusted tools;

Where once the victims sipped their wine,

Regardless of their place in line,

Cheap labor,

Cleaver,

Staff of wheat,

The honored deeds you value least.

And soured grapes,

Once full and sweet,

Now decorate my catbirds seat.