Devices 25

Final

The silhouette becomes the role
Known to the inconsolable.

Old age has outstayed its welcome,
Reduced to a shriveled scrotum,
Still flaunting its jazzy jism.

Life is a momentary spasm.
The sleep of monsters can give birth
To reason. The unbelievers

Put together the odds as ends,
The pairs conjoined like mismatched friends,

And the human flesh dispensed with,
Like so much used tissue paper,

And the blood-stained skeleton gone
In search of life beyond bones.

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

A very descriptive and elegantly written poem with shades of aging writ large and resistance as the protagonist slips into life beyond.

[John]

Thanks John for your comment. Glad you enjoyed the poem