She-her-ah-zade

[Erthona]

She-her-ah-zade

 
Old woman, how you ramble on so.
Muzak spilling from your mouth
like cold soup, you feed this dying fish
a poor imitation of the real thing.
 
Who’s neck are you trying to save?
When I’m gone your next.
 
Come now Gabriel,
step up to the mike,
and play that horn.
It still beats the hell out of Muzak
played by an amateur.
 
Gabrielle’s Horn.
Gabrielle’s Fog Horn.
Gabrielle’s Fog creeps in on
little cat’s feet*, 
on little death’s feet.
 
Well come on then, net this dying fish.
It’s not as though this dull, drab, boring life
has not made me ready.
I’ll at least get away from the Muzak.
 
erthona

*apologizes to Carl Sandburg


©1996

[ellajam]

Well done on the bitter, the sharp lashing out.

Love this as it hints at life still left and would still be at home in a less grumpy experience as well as here:

Gabrielle’s Horn.
Gabrielle’s Fog Horn.
Gabrielle’s Fog creeps in on
little cat’s feet,
on little death’s feet.

You might lose the comma L2.

[Erthona]

Thanks Ellla, will do.

dale