My Foe Swen

So the little bungalow you call home is fenced in with Dali paintings and a statue
constantly crying about the victims of want.

It is a sad state of affairs when each step you take becomes so
melodramatic that you emotionally crumble after a severe gust of wind.

Take the left turn on Surreal Street sometime, witness the scars on
the sidewalks that burn with unseasonable rapture.

Plunge the depths, ride the ride—walk into the bowels of hell over and over.

Then call me, from your gold phone that rains seltzer water whenever the excessive whining
becomes too difficult to bear.

I’ll be waiting with a black torch—hoping your final episode of exposed grandeur will
   be fruitless…
   hackneyed…
   decayed…

(Appeared previously in Entropic Desires)

Dan Provost's poetry has appeared in numerous poetry e-zines and small print mags. He has two chapbooks published (The Fat Girl on Belmont Street by Spent Angel Press and Sins of Arnold Street by Boomsnack Chaps) and his third chapbook, Chronic Observations While Drinking Rat Milk, will be published by Feel Free Press in September.