A Boxer
There is this clown in a boxing ring,
Trying to act all tough and "real"
Like John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart
Or maybe like Marlon Brando
In Last Tango in Paris--
Who knows where his mind
Has gone to?--
He's never been in a real fight
With his pansy ass pantaloons
And a glowing fake nose,
Which has not seen real blood
In a long time--
He just writes his pansy ass
Cheesy poems
To his clueless audience
Of kooky old ladies living in
Jesus clouds and pompous old
Gentlemen, wanting to return
To the good old days--
But they are just as clueless
As this clown as to what
He is talking about,
For he makes no sense
At all, fighting the imaginary
Windmills of his cosmic madness,
And I want to reach to him
And say: "Come on, man,
Get real!" But he just stands
There with his boxing gloves on
And his striped pantaloons,
Ready to take on the world
That doesn't exist except in
His mind and in the mind of
His clueless audience,
Who finds him quite amusing
And enigmatic,
Helping them through
The boredom and
Emptiness of their
Routine existence.
November 14, 2006
Copyright © 2006 by Alexander Shaumyan