Well-Played

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high ...

up there
where the lights shine bright
and the bug in your ear
sings perfection -
the people
the adoration
the energy -
whisper to you like a lover
and make you
dream
of things far beyond your
worth or import or
device
yet you squeeze -
you wring and wrangle and
strangle it like a demon
for that last little drip
of blood ...
and the music -
that beautiful beast that
courses your veins
like a drug -
that sets this world to
spin, dancing
and is the very bloom of life, itself
is the magic carpet
warm beneath your feet
that sews you
to the intoxication
and binds you like iron to its
purpose
but …
remember
in the depths of your joy
and the grip of your idle indifference
and the throes of
your morose madness …
this is not
a ...

GAME.


~ for Roby Duke ~






Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, December 25, 2022

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