Callous, cold,
and full of spite:
degenerate, the
courtesan is teasing
once again…
We were all of us
Ariadne,
pining after one such
demigod
Retired
to a life of trickery, cheap wine, and
heroin:
they are all the same,
one after another,
wicked,
implacable.
It is a life of
hard tales,
lost hopes, and
splintered dreams.
Yes,
some are meant to
saunter aimlessly on a
ridiculous pedestal,
Emilia Marty in her
39th century, gazing over
blazing lights
into an audience who is
not there.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
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One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.
- Emily Dickinson