The Forgotten Tryst

The Forgotten Tryst

A Poem by J.Sin
"

2017.11.12 @ 21:38

"

When she walked into my room

I was partially sedated by

A half bottle of Glenfiddich

Three shots of Absinthe

And Shostakovich’s 7th.

She was angry,

            I daresay,

            F*****g mad.

My astute rationalization was to

Feign inspiration,

            Allege that my muse had…

            Raped me?

Even I determined that to be dubious at best,

And it showed.

As she stormed from the room I begged my muse

            My spark,

            My genius,

            My sensibility,

For the lexicon,

The prose,

The poetry,

To make everything

Copacetic.

As she approached the threshold she turned round,

Looked deep into my vernacular

As I opened my mouth,

And eloquently,

Poured myself,

One,

More,

Drink.

© 2017 J.Sin


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

Very clever and funny. As the man said, it enhances the desire, but not the proficiency.

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

207 Views
1 Review
Added on November 12, 2017
Last Updated on November 12, 2017
Tags: Writing, Muse, Date, Priorities, Life, Anger, Happiness

Author

J.Sin
J.Sin

Banská Bystrica, Slovakia



About
Canadian living and working in Slovakia. World traveller, musician, writer, and teacher. Former music/film reviewer for "Cassette Culture" online magazine. 5 self-published poetry/short story books in.. more..

Writing
Being Nobody Being Nobody

A Poem by J.Sin