LAMENTATIONS 

On the nights when the people go crazy, the poet is still and absolutely normal. He laughs, "Is that all you are capable of in your night of craziness?"

The eternal sense of decay descends; a sense the poet wrestles to the ground as he would a wounded panther that suddenly leapt from the alabaster pillars of a venerable hotel. The wound in the panther is ghastly. Crowds gather to cheer the panther on. " Kill the poet, eat the poet alive" "we don’t want his stinking words."

The panther and poet recognize each other in each others eye and feel disgust for the passing crowds.

© 2001 David Eide. All rights reserved.