Luxuries.

Luxuries.

 

Surely, sir, you’re

Sitting at the bottle

Yet again

 

As a part of your

Crusade

You are dying

For them

In your house’s shade

 

Prying open a bottle

Of merlot

Sighing as you go

 

So they won’t have

To feel your

Pain.

 

Surely, madam, you powder

Your face

To empower those

Disgraced

 

Every hour

‘fore the mirror

makes your dire

mission dearer.

 

Surely. Young man

When you play

With girls your age

It’s only to dissuade

Their future

Children from

The horror of an

Adolescent rage.

 

Certainly, stranger

It concerns you

Very greatly

 

The state of the world

How it’s been

Doing lately.

 

All these nuances in your private plans

Comprise a great conspiracy

That alligns to serve both all of man

And to dissuade every heresy.

 

The fools will call these tools

Pretensions

But I know this to be false

And my only contension

Is that everyone exalts

 

Little things while big things loom

Yet I’ll preserve my sanity

That you seek to assuage this doom

Secretly, with vanity.

 

Dm.A.A.