Poetic Interlude XLIV

This poem, and others like it, are available in  Patchwork Narrative, my slim volume of poetry, available here and here. Enjoy!

On a Cloudy Day
A patchwork grey of fog and cloud
Blankets all my days,
And, in evening, I drift ’round
In alcoholic haze.
I’m told that I should mend my ways,
Or find an avenue of praise
To end these weary roundelays –
But I grow old, and I grow thin.
I’ll steep myself in sin, and gin.
 
Heaven growls in apathy,
Never raining, never dry.
A placid span of onyx sea
Mocks my likewise liquid eyes.
Between the years, and lies, and sighs,
And history I’ve dramatized,
I think I’ve finally realized
I’ll find a modicum of hope,
Or else I’ll find a length of rope.

 

©2014 by Tyler J. Yoder. All rights reserved

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About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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