Saturnalia
do not enter our
licentious celebration
with the unconcealed
expectation of grace
it is with excessive certainty
that the coarse ambitions of
opulent plates spinning above
shoots of buttercream daffodils
will dazzle your keen senses
tangle an abrupt and searing
string of salacious scripture
with dense literalized conceit
all for the purpose of theater
an illusion of scintillating opacities
a meretricious reserve of beauty
with no apparent absence of taste
do not enter our
profligate congregation
for any other motivation but to
indulge in a sparkling adaptation
of grand superficial pretensions
designed to appraise fancy footing
heaving outbursts of dramatic fire
& the tumult of glamour and affluence
please note
for all this jazz
tender hearts
need not attend
This reminds me that "Gatsby" is being released today!
ReplyDeleteAs usual, Nic, this is gorgeous! A stunning ode to a rip-roaring era of glamour, glitz and razzle-dazzle. Indeed, nothing here for the romantic, unless you count romance as being naught but shiny and sparkly ... which I kinda sorta do. I love this poem. I love the time it evokes and the marvelous way you weave imagery with words. Okay, so I thought I'd need a dictionary to help me with the bigger ones, but then I stepped back and got the full glorious picture. The taste, the sound, the savage beauty of it all. *sigh*
(This is where you tell me that it's a satire and I completely missed the irony, right? ;))
That you conjured 'Gatsby' tells me that with this poem, I've done my job. Inspiration translated!
DeleteThis ain't no elephant! ;)