Billiards

Good morning! I’m seriously not dead, just busy. I’ve been working as a carpenter the last six months and it’s gotten to be pretty regularly exhausting. Hoping everyone is having fun and finding the time. And now, without further ado…

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Billiards

In the shadow of the billiards table,

does a lone man sit

ruminating on that which he ought to commit.

He does rage, rage, rage

against the budding bacteriophage,

for its presence

and its essence

diffuse and effuse,

refusing to assuage

the undying of the night.

Forlorn and in scorn,

yet the man still protests

against the very idea that there is dark

and in his own light he finds

a strength so stark

he would weather the bite and shirk the bark.

Eons ago,

in lifetimes past,

perhaps such a thing would leave him aghast,

but now, not then,

and certainly not again,

does his reign begin

with the stroke of a pen.

Altogether stable,

and no longer a fable,

the man does sit

under the shadow of a billiards table.