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…
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.
Poems by Sam 