Friday, May 07, 2010

On Decomposition

His saliva drips onto my velvet lapel and though
we've been feeding him well, I'm never sure

if this time when he opens his mouth
it's just a yawn. We are all shedding

apart; my grey hairs resemble his more
each day. Even the whip sags, the old prop chair

going brown at the nails.
We're not sure what to do with him

after the spotlights close their apertured eyes
and he stands in his cage, waiting with his mouth

hinged open for hours, but we know Pride
is a word we used to be a part of.

Prompt via


Derrick said...

Sad when we're no longer up to it. I like the use of "Pride".

Linda Jacobs said...

Oh, that ending is so sad but perfect!

flaubert said...

Very sad poem and well done for the prompt.

Paul Oakley said...

Nathan, your profile reads:

The poem arrives with a black eye, a split lip, saying "Yeah, well you should see the poet."

This poem leaves the clear impression of a poet bloodied by the reality portrayed. Moving!

Cynthia Short said...

Ah, the inevitablily of aging! Poor old lion, hope they keep him around.
I really liked your piece!

Anonymous said...

wow. this works really well! even if we didn't consider it about lions -- it works.

so glad you've joined the circus!

Deb said...

So poignant, yet still there is mystery: ... I'm never sure/ if this time when he opens his mouth/ it's just a yawn. ... I particularly like the repeated un-sure of "what to do with him" ...

So glad you joined the circus! Thank you!

Tumblewords: said...

The end is like that, I think. Pride is gone and the mouth hangs open. Sad and yet alive with reality. Nice.

Victoria said...

The use of "Pride" really touches me. Decline of the once glorious is so hard.

Stacy Lynn Mar said...

I read this as a very mysterious used great descriptions but also kept the reader wondering. Great work.

Anonymous said...

I do like ur article~!!! ........................................