a dreary midnight? How
about Eddy, parsing
Paracelsus, threadbare
drunk and mooning about
the dark? Actions have
consequences, if you go
gloomy you get me
and my deadpan word
that wows them in
their drawing rooms
with their death wishes,
their love of laudanum.
Some people aren’t
pleased to live anymore,
give or take a Lenore,
or Eddy with four more
years of his bad living to go.
I could stay, enjoy the show
perched here on a statue.
Pity the person who comes
to clean his study once Eddy
stumbles off over the edge
of the earth, searching
for all his gone girls.
Laurinda Lind lives in New York’s North Country. Some publications/acceptances are in Blue Earth Review, Midwest Quarterly, New American Writing, Paterson Literary Review, and Spillway; also anthologies Visiting Bob: Poems Inspired by the Life and Work of Bob Dylan (New Rivers) and AFTERMATH: Explorations of Loss and Grief(Radix).
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