190. the merry-go-round
new six foot green
& the first proper
tremblings of love
step clumsy onto the sidewalk.
April comes & goes
& cares not for this house;
a baby, a dice, a roman fish
a love less than divine
the girl has flown,
& love’s appended for now…
– and you know that
she intends to arm herself
with your children
& divest you of your pride & gold –
so mark my words:
that oysters enable, it’s said,
but clams spew forth your issue
and purple robes are only robes
– a tissue of conceit, that’s all.