You might find me boorish
A buffoon with sensibilities from another age
An undereducated hack with perverse interests
Jotting down any ol’ thought on the page
I can be oblivious, sullen & exhausting
Rarely the life of the party, it’s true
You might find me infuriating
But I assure you, my wife does too
Low evenings persistently intrude
Fancy parties & sensitive souls
Facades draped in lush decor
Strong mixed spirits don’t leave you full
Trashy nights with unseen acquaintances
Low cut blouses & nylon dreams in heels
Witnessing dancers locked in solitude
Push away the day
We don’t need another slow reveal
It was a one-eyed kind of morn
With evening’s festivities going awry
I scrawled out all I could remember
Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy
Slight images of a lovely form
Olfactory sparks upon my brain
Sketching the party’s guest list
But no new faces could remain
Racking my skull for a proper memory
Writing down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail
A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol
Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we’re out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more
Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth
Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the past tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense
To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate
This is life. This is reality.
When the pretty words drip away
When the party’s over
You’ve still got to wake & face the day
Digital lovers lavish heaps of praise
Complimenting you on your magnificent blog
While you neglect the physical world
Always remember that pain & loneliness are analog
just for laughs!
Dreams of pretty dancing girls
Tartan skirts & gold buckles on their shoes
Legs draped in such fine stockings
High kicks, but treasure out of view
The fantasy of a joyous party
Spirited music playing a bit loud
Fiddles & bagpipes; what a scene
You pulled me out of the dense crowd
Beauty of drinking black beer all day
My stature begins to slightly tilt
You quietly asked me for a light
But there’s no pockets in this kilt
Envisioning what the night might bring
Is it possible that you could be this real
Sharing a pint in a secluded corner
A second Guinness is considered a meal
Rereading Orwell and taking notes
Not going to be ruled nor romanced
By an adolescent philosophy
Anyone’s faulty & retched political stance
We need to think for ourselves again
Too many left for dead it seems
Generation of choreographed absurdity
& gathering the news by sharing memes
But I have faith we can regain our promise
By exposing kindness & compassion instead
It is possible to lead by inspiration
Instead of ruling by threats & dread
***
and another thing;
a note to those in power
we need to rename political parties
CSPAN is the lamest way to spend an hour
Sometimes you just need an excuse
To do something completely irrational…
Small moments creating larger smiles
This party is increasing – It’s going National
Jerry’s singing loud, making me dance
Wave that flag, wave it wide & high
Light the fires, let’s make it count
Happy Birthday, America! – on this 4th of July!
Captain Q 