Breakfast With The Gods Poem by Stephen Brian Brady

morning on the terrace
at Olympus Heights Hotel
the Gods are there in numbers
and life seems kinda swell

modesty don't become them
they're hardly in disguise
with self-proclaiming tee-shirts
and shades bedim their eyes

breakfast is a subterfuge
a confusion of delights
to titillate yet not to whet
extremist appetites

we don't want distant thunder
we're hanging from a thread
of course we're bloody nervous
we all could wake up dead