Chigaon DeCay woke one day and asked himself:
What if I were in love?
What if I could walk up to you
And grasp your hand like we
Were the last two people on earth?
What if I could live once again?
Is not my twelve year sleep long enough?
Is not all that time I’ve recorded pathos enough?
Dreaming all the stars of my ancestors!?
Venerable engravers of my life
Who came before me colliding with you and I
Like we took our exit from the subway on
31stand Seventh piercing through the smells
Like an afterthought like italicized stage directions
Knowing the author’s notes are open for interpretation
A carrion-feast of stench wilting at the thought
Of living a life of nothing one more day!
Enough!he roared, enough of this chattering way
If I could play for you the music of who I am
What would you hear? Would you hear
A pastel wash of Major 7ths and Diminished 4ths?
A swift ravaging abhors this Love we’ll find!
© K. James Ribble
Thespian Drummer 