Chocolate pretzels and ale;
and depleted science fiction.
And now, nothing. Not a phone call or a letter.
But something never dies with that kind of encounter.
Hallowed halls quake when no one's looking.
With the sagacious aptitude of a cunning fox
makes her way through the crowd, remiss.
Oblivious to greedy onlookers opportunistically
awaiting her next fall to her face—anticipating:
the invincible world of forlorn-ridden air.
Remote suasions in a gutteral accent
repel what's left of grace. Bromide allusions to
forsaken dawns, sully the atmosphere.
This last embarkment will have an indelible mark on
our concentration. Character, aside.
Expended sigh. Followed by a brief adieu.
Taciturn darling—who cannot, in truth,
blame him for anything (the source of 98 percent
of her frustration) surmises the final valediction:
She flaunts his faults while exaggerating her own.
s./j. goldner
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/diadem-of-a-malediction/
