Revive The Vicissitude

This perfect night
I clenched my jaws
From the cinch defeat
Until eternity extended
To the opalescent curtains
Of my room echoing
The blaring sound of silence
And the muffled weeps
Of desolation
That crept up with the dawn
Late, at my four AM gazing;
Siphoned out of verve
Drawn from cigarette sticks,
Disembogue the rancid kick
As I accept the coup-de-grace
Of death in living death
But a tepid air deluged
My dribbling punctured chest
Humming a lullaby
To bring back the rhythm
Of all my hapless pleading
Please, please, please
Let me, let me, let me
Get what I want
This time,
Finagling the winning tyrant
To open the bleeding bolted fist
And the abeyance of life
Deflated with sleep
Thank you, munificent lady
Of the nomadic caravansary,
For reeling the rotting viscera
Of the evocatively forgotten vicissitude.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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