The Melancholy Malaise of Last Nights Memories
I’m bringing you a poem this week, since the podcast will follow along the lines with the book and I preempted the podcast by posting Carol-Ann and the Nothing Man first. So enjoy listening with Carol-Ann this week and enjoy the poem.
This was the second poem I wrote during my “Bowling Alley” period. It’s simple enough, my friends went through a bowling phase, of which I’m not much a fan so my imagination ran wild while. In between rolls, I looked around at others through the beer haze of the alley. I saw old men gathering, I saw teenagers trying to steal drinks, I saw homeless looking for a place to stay, and women, old and young trying to seduce others. These images and personalities clashed in my mind and brought forth some of the most brash (If not outright ranty) poetry and prose I’ve ever done. Hope you like it!
The Melancholy Malaise of Last nights Memories
Your pedantic search for truth
through unsuspecting lives,
leaves girls wondering
faith and cosmopolitan sexuality.
Leaves men pondering God
in tumultuous copulation.
The vulturous squalor
of your predatory eyes.
The death you feel in
age;
the uncouth joy you find in
desire.
I see the innocence,
the pure unkempt
youthfulness
in your smile.
The only vestige of
the life you desire.
You perspire and
extrapolate the need and desire of
men and boys.
The purpose your life has
derived.
With grasping limbs
and intertwining extremities,
the pulse of distinctive
and purely diabolic
hearts pound in unison.
The power and force of
your vapid conjointedness
juxtaposing reality.
You ask for faith.
You ask for belief.
You ask for hope.
Why dont you realize
these are pronouncements
only for the holy?
What you really crave,
what you really hunger
is desire.
That lust in a young man’s eye.
The postulation behind the
powerful.
That un-touched,
that un-satiated
that un-natural
Desire.
The type that doesn’t exist!
What you love is lust,
but what lust could love?
When is a letch good?
When is lasciviousness absolute?
With your talk of luxurious tapestries
and proportions of men,
wallet…or otherwise.
The vivaciousness of women
competent…or otherwise,
complimenting your overwhelming
denigrating power.
Your false Hubris.
Do you know?
How weak?
Disheveled?
Degrading?
How useless it is?
your
Desire?
Sean McBride 