Morsure I Poem by S.J. Goldner

He knew, somehow, this would all have to work in his favor.
Guests filtered in at relative snail speed - a barrage of color;

Crummy time for an intervention. Mistletoes & Manilow
Are mocking this consortion, this interrupted remission—
our efforts to address her habits, no worse than the rest of ours.
A bunch of hypocrites, lullabying to psychiatrists, now lecturing how
Sera,
needs recovery.

When we betray each other the path towards redemption
Becomes a clouded winter night, less clear in one's hope for return.
There I go preaching, starting already, I consider, heads-start.
Go first, get it over with. If or when that flauntacious siren stabilizes
she will be unreachable, unstoppable, and utterly undeniable.

Retrieving a slow wad of coerced compensation from his deep pocket,
Tips his hat to colleagues, acquaintances, understudies, & teammates.
Once-over to the punchbowl, spiked, and the children, sugared,
While snowfall accumulates outside at a gazelle's gait.

Nipping and sucking the last cane from his doused stocking
It found his mouth watering with delighted anticipation;
The fir of the evergreen enhanced the shine —tenfold.

I'm not about - ‘you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.'
What goes around comes around - why force it?