​He is the bloated one
A small-eyed bullish man
Aerated with fetid humour
Intent on flesh and spoils.
 
Darkly charming
Pungent, like oiled cherries
His enmity beholds a brimming negation
Cup full of scented gall:
Nothing will ever ease
His crazed thirst
For rewards and adulation.
 
At home in his shitty nest
Wife, children, career
Must always seem wanting.
 
Crepuscular and satiated with regret
Does he ever trip at the passing of time
Into the point of stark reflection
Or does the bloated body
Coruscating with diet coke
Signal his slow demise
Rotting from within.


Gar Jones – January 2016                               *Hugo Hofmannsthal & Richard Strauss, Der Rosenkavalier, 1911


 
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