He rides in
on someone else's chariot.
Paper crown
atop his unkempt head.
Pompous and without fanfare
he descends to your home.
Gracing it.
Gracing you.
Your house;
His temporary castle.
Your chair;
His throne.
Your couch;
His four-post bed.
Your life;
His.
Until he decides to move on.
2 comments:
I think that we all know someone like this. Sorry about Friday, still doing family nonsense. I'll post twice one day this week to make up for it.
When I first read the title, I thought you were going to write about the basketball players who flop like Vlade or Varajeo. The first stanza actually describes LeBron's situation very well but after my "Decision" poem, that's sort of where my head is at.
I hate people like this. It takes me a while to get comfortable with other people or other surroundings so maybe this is why I don't like them so much. Your poem captures the pomposity and the lack of respect.
You do this in most of your poems, but I like how you make dependent clauses into independent sentences. It slows down the reader down but also supplies an underlying flow if that makes any sense.
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