Ennui

Ennui ...inspired by 'A Cooking Egg' by T.S. Eliot Ronaldo sprawled in luxury across from where the spaniel lay, pretending to read Mallarme and yawning, stuck in Chapter One. The Grandfather ticked ponderously, there was no other sound in sight except dear Josephine who plonked and murdered dear Stravinsky's Rite. Boredom was the day's absorption with the National Election, who shall be our next Great Leader? pray not a hopeless interceder! Clementine declared, 'the weather seems to be a bit inclement, what shall I wear to Blanche's soiree, burgundy, or pearly grey?' Ronaldo trifled with religion, 'Heaven doesn't need a poet who maligns the Holy Spirit, I am going straight to Hell, where I'll meet Lucrezia Borgia, who will toy with my affections, feed me fabulous confections, as she plots my second death. Nobility has late escaped me, suburbanites are out to scold me, gentle is as gentle does is not the same as it once was. We're outcasts in a sea of trouble, cucumber sandwiches and quince have disappeared in all the rubble, what of pomp and circumstance?'