Lanthanum 7.21


A hint of iron spring in the backbone, like
that crook in Rififi, holding up the safe.
I am coming like a thief. Enough
will be just enough, murmurs Melchizedek.

Here’s the combo, my sweet pale
omen, my Peg in a square poulet, my
palomino. Tonight’s do or die. Pourquoi?
‒ Sez that beak of a coarse cousin, mal-

adroit (sans cinema) Corsican ‒ be
. Bees cause your gemstone-blaze
(in the pink), like a happy hearth-maze
(quattro sorelli) horsing a roundelay

under a lampshade (d’accord). You’re
sweet, villain. For now. Comme tu veux.
You’ve got visitors (in the make-up room,
ma chère). So... your trip... les jeux

sont faits. What’s happenin? The key’s
in your hand, mon idiot, mon frère
(Percy?). They looks like brother & ‒
brr! ‒ oak (some hood!). C’est ma jeune fille.

Gotta practice my style o’harmonique, Sal
(this way, spaghetto). Fleurs, masques...
C’est fini. Les jeux... ‒ the ice ‒ fast!
I forgot his number... so revoir, Mel. So

long, the whole rotten bunch of you!
L’Age d’Or’s closed, for now. Here come
that black-eyed Irish clover, strummin’ her
baobab banjo. Let the bad guys go (for now).



Hayden Andrews said...

Wow, I'm not sure where to begin in getting my head around this one! ;) An enjoyable read none-the-less. Thanks,

The Poetry Bin

Henry Gould said...

Thank you, Hayden. Much appreciated. Merci beaucoup!

Think of it as a combination of St. Patrick's Day and an old French movie. I wrote most of it while watching "Rififi". Thee's no escape from the blarney - for now. But the poem is self-correcting. I think. I hope.

RC said...

I really like this,Henry. A little bit of Pound,Berryman and a little bit of Henry Gould.I like the playfulness of it all.

Henry Gould said...

Thanks, Reyes! Glad you enjoyed it. I'll have to write while completely distracted more often!