(On November 9, 1799 Napoleon Buonaparte
launched his coup d'etat in Paris. It made
him a dictator, and corrupted him beyond
salvation. 18 Brumaire was the date of the
coup, by the revolutionary calendar in use
at the time.)
As climbing greasy poles habitually goes,
this wasn't (one must say) exactly polished.
To be roughed-up – but by politicos!
Can't blame them: no-one likes to be abolished
(especially not these ego-bloated shysters!)
What else? Oh, in a paroxysm of rage,
in distant climes, eccentric Kapellmeisters
were gouging (scoring?) through a music page.
For all his smiling talk of ease and glee
(tomorrow), his eloquent implorings,
unfailingly, this moment always comes.
The pipes are always drowned by the drums.
and that sleek sloop named self-regard so sleazily
slips free of all that nurtured it – its moorings.
Categories:
kapellmeisters, history,
Form: Sonnet