A Cottage By The Lake

by Ron Moulden

Posted to Poetry on 2004-03-12 05:56:00

A Cottage By The Lake
by Ron Moulden
©

Aphoristic dancers
of too much living have lied to me
from the beginning.
They’ve nagged me with repulsion
shouted that I’ve been idle, silent
threatening.

Like mercurial artists destitute
they become the ridiculous.
Imbibing in anarchy. Laying naked
in the desert reciting psalms.

But I am waiting along the wall
where the windows are, knowing there’s
no justification for anxiety, isolation
and apprehension.

There are letters of support still unopened
in the hall outside this room I carefully
call home.

The aphoristic dancers
have cautioned that I am the consequence
of those cold evenings, spent seducing
suburban wives
kept in a cottage by the lake.

Shown obscene movies in the middle
of the night, they were bathed like weekend sirens
unreservedly divorced from
their life’s purpose.

Perfecting the science of trivia
these simpering marionettes abandon me
Disturbed, as to why I cannot believe
in their covenant.