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The Pied Piper

Orchestrated they succumb onto her board scene ~ As success thrills the ordained Queen of mean--poet

As the Pied Piper grips her baton, she conducts her subjects, 
women of the Mississippi Delta
She has orchestrated them into a misguided effort 
with her prestigious lures flouting her now rejects fit for duty,
she doses them with harshly syncopated jazz 
Notes undulate in polyrhythms, rhythmic rituals,
razz mataz, lips on her magical flute made of pewter—preordained 
for her cruelest intention of wicked ambition
Tamir trills, tremolos easily execute, and her Blues 
have spread its depression, demoralizing
as the conductor of snark sends her deepest dark 
sympathies and peasant’s call for the release of the hard labor 
as a favor for the flutist, clad in rags and no food
the villagers are left with a repressive fate 
as she catapults   hypnotic tones over the cobblestones 
and as anger unfolds for owed to her is the gold for favors 
rendered that she’d give him his cut—as of yet, 
the pirate Jean Lafitte has not, adrift in the Gulfstream! 
The Golden Hind the pirated English ship, 
he robbed the Spanish galleons of their treasures to bring back to the Queen
and he has failed, blinded by arrogance, bloated with greed 
Once again, the Piperess raises her flute and improvises 
a somber dirge depression to impart a punishment on her subjects, 
one that will change their decent minds, instead of being saddened 
by your grief you’re maddened, you’ll see that mine is the right way, she lauds                                       
As she looks into her trumeau mirror dry tears do not drip, 
with all beauty gone so is her vanity, what’s left is loathsome hurt,   
a  trompe l'oeil  rest assured an opportunity forced insanity and
now only the children hear her music, starved, orphaned—left to eat the dirt
She’s every queen in one, sentimentally known 
as the forceful dispassionate of what’s mean
She drinks her shot of bourbon for determination, 
and through French doors, and into her 
blood-stained quarters, décor of twisted foliage tors
and the Pied Piperess sends her conscripts
down to the sea caves delivering  threats 
to sink Lafitte’s ship and his enslaved children
He gives into the fluted Queen to keep his prized possession 
and hands her the gold, and he’s at the helm, the children returned, 
still she keeps her muses beneath her thumb infecting them 
with hatred as they succumb and keep them on 
the board of shame and so there is no happyeverafterings here, 
for such blind power never wanes I fear


Tors: decorative motif consisting of twisted foliage, ribbon or string of pearls
Trompe l'oeil: illusionistic perspective representation
Trumeau mirror: mirror set into the woodwork between two windows or doors



Copyright © I Am Anaya

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