Serial Killer Offstage At The Theater Of The Absurd

Now that the next scene's set 

For perfect execution, logically 

 

You should all just sit back 

In your seats and wait— 

 

For my entrance surely 

Promises to set your hair 

 

On fire once more. 

 

 

 

Lullaby Of A Procrastinating Insomniac

What in hell are you waiting for? 

Go on and fall 

 

Asleep, you most sheepish 

Example of God’s work 

On Earth, 

 

You have only so many 

Sweet dreams left before you 

Stop counting 

 

Once and for all 

And make that crybaby 

Shepherd of yours keep

 

His promise of forever,

Lasting sleep.

 

Pastime

Nothing lasts, 

Not even those oxymoronic 

 

Images which persist for what 

Seems forever instant. 

 

 

 

A Poem Should Be (25)

Fantastically never-never humdrum 

Boys and girls, and always 

 

Nurturing and delicious, say 

A lot like Mom and apple pie, 

 

With plenty a whiff 

Of Tinkerbell’s stuff, 

 

And just like that, 

The hard-to-swallow 

 

Thought we’ll be only 

Dust one day flies by! 

 

 

 

End Of The Affair

Aye,

You said 

You’d always be 

 

My friend and I 

Believed you, I 

 

Who found it 

Hard to trust 

 

Anybody, even those 

Foolhardy few 

 

Who loved me to no end.