Kypria

Pater Inflatus

with one comment

Brittle and bright, your magnificent shell,
Fragile and taut as attic drums,
It is the shroud of your diminishment,
Apace your nemesis comes.

Haughtily you perch, a bird of veneers,
Too fat to fly, too dull to sing,
Glare at the distance from darkening bough,
And decry the birds on the wing.

The ego-shine, divine! What grand design!
All things in your estimation,
Are proclaimed this or that, tuneful or flat,
To deaf, enrapt congregations.

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Written by Jem Neal

April 9, 2011 at 12:16 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

One Response

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  1. I loved this poem. Powerful.

    And I like this: “Too fat to fly, too dull to sing”

    Hope you are well.

    nray

    April 9, 2011 at 3:05 pm


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