The Love Bomb of J. Prufrock

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Evolution by AandG


Reposted from Dec 6, 2016

vapors wander
under the door sill
smoke drifting insolently
from Magdalene’s cigarettes
in the hallway like a teenager at school
lacking Self-Awareness

the Terracotta Princess holds her head
in her hands and complains of migraines
in Winter stuck indoors and camphor smell
of wooden chests from Indonesia carved
with birds elephants tropical palms
hold our memories

we read our thumbnails like tea leaves
across the picture window wall of the sitting room
desperately brushing at the webs
that encapsulate sterile
lives once breathed
now only suffocate
in stillness scrolling
the Ether mesmerized
by the Ether swallowed
by the Ether

lost in addresses unknown
our unexplored paths rerouted to
numerical errors multiplied in chaos
as we count our digits and laugh at the irony

the Dominion knocks at the door
and lets himself in shivering from the cold
outside and shakes his wet raincoat on the living
room rug with the abandon of an overzealous Dane

circles the dining room table
weary from journeys taken unsolicited
but lucrative just the same if you’re a lost
soul and he’s certainly a lost soul lacking
Self-Awareness

come in
make yourself at home
I ready a cup of fresh ground
Moka from the stainless steel pot
and sweeten it to taste and offer it along with
the finest French creme pastry you can buy
in a cellophane wrapper

it isn’t much and may not
go well with the Sumatran
but it’s all we’ve got our
last pennies gone
to the offering

god is pleased
but we are not
—the Terracotta
Princess rolls her eyes
and I in my uncertainty query
the Oracle to make sure Shakespeare
agrees and the script is canon

for I am,
what I am, Or
am I?

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