"A Mona Lisa for Psychotics,"
(16 x 20 Watercolor), image by Ed Coletti
Bricolage
Sursum corda
from taedium vitae
as illicit fandango
quickens to saraband
where
you’re on your own
all alone
with my enchantment
words and phrases
tongues as petals
leaves of grass
slight susurrus
stretto and al segno
Who is this pathetic quid nunc
a veritable National Enquirer
who playing Cassandra
nudges chaos in to form-
al actus reus
whose life work
re presents no thing
but trompe l’ oeil?
Spider-elbowed
camarilla’s
badinage
gets right
to
the mandamus
of
baksheesh—
timely pay
each tranche
lest the
tattooed Argus
drop you
deep into
an oubliette
where
“nil
desperandum”
is never heard,
where
“memento mori”
can only be drowned
in endless waiting.
Forgive such
gallimaufry,
learn from it
that fun can be
antidote
to karoshi.
Permit yourself
to romp
farouche,
cha cha cha
your soul away;
discover
the vertiginous
opening
Ed Coletti
