God’s Overture

Bright lights, a creaking door,
A poet in his cape—
The curtains rise and let
The charm begin—
There’s really no escape—
You simply have to sit
Through it, as the maestro
Juggles words like
Rabbits in his hat.

Today’s new lesson is
In the use of rhyme and
Repetition—
Two dwarves come out
With names “dog” and “frog”
And waltz together
In a turgid villanelle,

As the maestro strings
His puppets one by one
And beheads them.

The frog becomes a chicken
And the dog becomes
A scorching elephant
Of love—
A trollop really with
A big behind—

You should have
Seen her in an
Obscene burlesque—

The audience laughs
Like janitors who are blind—
Gestapo-like—
With guns instead of mops,
As God plays
With the bearded woman’s
Testicles.

   February 27, 2007 
--Alexander Shaumyan