Everything needs a rest- the machine - a mirror- an
astronomical chart or graph- a sometimes glass?.
Like the fun even though dynamo elsewhen or blue
or black- glee elsewhere or G- clamp?.
I tell you something is hither or thither elsewhere or how
the world is not even aware of damn or the water blue
splashing on the eyelids of some mermaids for instance?,
Just let wait and see the sky is still weathering and sere
and flealy withering?.
Will the body mind when the spirit needs a rest or at least
a fine adornment?.
Or sometimes the beautiful flowers at the campaign
secretariat?.
I know these are not hidden passions that will hide
let say for instance when the country is tasting either
tik or tok-
I know even the world itself sometimes itches or
bubbles or cheers like a resournating glass or
monster?.
Since years are gone and love is beholding strong.
What then is such redress through?.
Silk stocking filled with mud was Talleyrand.
With the future of France held in his hand,
He played kibitzer-informed cards with skill,
Maneuvering a Congress to his will.
There once was a Marquis named Talleyrand,
Who loved ladies and a fine sarabande
Smarts from ladies gained as a teen
Helped him escape the guillotine,
Surviving four regimes as he had planned.
Vested in priestly garb this backslidden Bishop
Chose diplomacy over baptism and hyssop.
Though Talleyrand walked with congenital limp,
He was never known as a diplomatic wimp.
Standing at the edge of the bay,
I imagine a watery grave where lie
Remains of an old Spanish galleon
Laden with silver coins encrusted
Barnacles and unsalvaged treasure,
Where once the buccaneers partied
After a successful foray in a placid sea
In those moments I dance a sarabande
As my vivid imagination runs amok.
written January 5, 2022
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