I'm a poet and soliloquist,
both dummy and ventriloquist.
I wonder if I even exist,
or how I ever could.
She left me floating on a river.
I have no heart to forgive her.
I shed no tears, just a sliver.
I'm a poet made of wood.
THE SOLILOQUIST
She kissed la fleur - the audience.
The spotlight pierced her eyes, and then
eclipse la lune - the tale begins.
Quaint pearlescent - those tears that break.
L’amour that baits dress circle seats.
She flits of charm, her hands in play.
Bids parting syllable away.
Tout du suite, a tremendous crowd leap.
The virgin in white dress aglow.
Throng’s breathless palms like wedding bells.
10/9/2018
la fleur - the flower (la flur)
la lune - the moon (la loon)
l’amour - love (la-mor)
tout de suite - immediately (toot-sweet)
*in parenthesis my best pronunciation
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