Serenade in Irony
Defining edge of precipice undared,
The parapet sustains your elegance,
Cantilever elbows balancing
The craning neck and posited base,
Succulent orbs, not quite a counterpoise
To founded hulk of torso. Precarious
The contemplation of the street
From safety's perch upon the balcony,
An infirm outpost abutting the flood:
Home and the world. Senorita, madame or Srimati,
Will you not join the Dionysian doom,
Forsaking your false equilibrium?
Watcher craving to be player, yet afraid
Of the seductive absolute, you are still,
But cannot stanch the current of the stream.
Cling to those railings damsel, if you will.
The parapet or balustrade or gunwale
Is but an artifact of sanity, a token
Of restraint, a symbol and convention,
Reminder or decorum, just enough to leash
The rash temptation to leap or chance a fling.
Lean over, love, but take care not to fall.
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