Ransack & Plunder…(Cry me a Zither)

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Dragged
away from the unhappiness
contest after losing the plot
mapping out cities razed of people
sequin-cloaked in the steady opulence
of Sunday a teatime chastising errant aphids.
Sanctifying
euthanasia for the financially challenged
after
a small amontillado
a bout of imbecility
during a toccata & fugue
at a recital down the orangerie
Picture
a Flower sat down to take stock
a surefire cure for insomnia
she dreamt that as she slept off the trance.

But how could this be so?
Without him there was no world to speak of
he would not be there to overlook.

He turns the radio back on and settles
down to the sound of meteorites
raining on the corrugated roof of the temenos.

The world was waking up
from its ransack