Novelty Act

Novelty Act

It seems that

the novelty

has worn off,

or at least

worn thin;

formative

as a common bell.

 

No more questions

or adequate looks,

the unessential let down

of semi-serious emotion,

like looking down

the sink drain

in the bathroom

of a strangers house.

 

And a penny for each eye,

motionless still,

in the guilty repression

of a soul

ripped in two.

 

A journey that began

with an old realization,

a matter of fact statement

of identity,

and all the folly it brings.

 

All done with

no sympathetic fanfare,

only the dreary sound

of a lone,

distant trombone,

and the slow applause

of the drunk woman

intensely listening.

 

As if it were something

a little less important.

 

Than the obliteration

of me.

Reviews

[kbjami]

Very interesting. I liked it.