At the dark intersection of convergent shadows
There lies an orphan thumb tack,
A silent menace to unshod feet,
Waiting to jolt me awake from the dream.
And it wouldn’t come as an unwelcome surprise.
I’ve been experiencing life in syndication.
Living off the residuals of tired plots
And oft quoted tag lines:
"To the moon, Alice!"
“Lucy, I’m home!”
“Son of a gun!”
“Dyno-mite!”
How many re-runs does it take
Till you run out of reasons for watching?
My publicist was admitted to rehab.
My agent never returns my calls.
The last time I walked the red carpet
Was in a black and white photograph.
But I did look stunning!
The phantom of the opera,
once bitter and marose,
living in torture chambers,
almost comatose,
has got a new publicist.
Don't write his epitaph.
Now, he's bright and cheerful,
signing autographs.
Spaniard Salvador Dali
a surrealist he came to be
With ego & flamboyancy he did persist
this moustachiod self-publicist
i give her a hug as she shows me her degree
i reward her with encouragement and a chocolate shake
so many of those close to us tried with everything in them to bring her down
yet she kept her eyes locked on the goal and the work it included
i then present her with a ticket for a caribbean cruise for seven days and seven nights
her tears showed me all the gratitude i needed to see
no words were necessary
now if i had the power, i would tackle the devil hard and put a bullet through his head
then again, that is not the kind of man i was made to be in God's eyes
in her own quiet way, she allows her success to be her publicist
caring for those who care for her, she presents myself and others with a special gift of her own
it is a token with the word APPRECIATION in all caps engraved on it
we all say she did not have to
she expresses the contrary
here stare lets silences us gracefully in understanding
the vibe now festive, we celebrate a deserved individual who made it....
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