The Reich of Self-Discipline

I don't know the full story, but the poet slipped me a note asking me to specifically use this poem, from his legendary "Panther Cycles", for today's posting, so here goes.


The Reich of Self-Discipline

you are alone because you choose to be alone.
I am alone because you choose to be alone.
the balance is not there, but the justice is.
truth like a peach,
crimson with overripeness,
nectar oozing in rivulets of pink sweetness
not unlike the last feast of passion I will ever taste.
memories unerased by the passage of time,
the message of crime uncommitted.
unremitting love.
sad.
as sad as a clock’s song of solace.
less than the truth, more than a lie.
we cry in corners hidden from the watchful eyes
of our internal, eternal, infernal critic.
epic and poetic epigrams that slam doors
of opportunity as the fruit
slowly
slides
from its anchorage and
falls.
falls.
falls from the summit of dark kisses
and the joy of love play
into the isolation of the hard earth
amid the bitter blades of sawgrass
and the Reich of self-discipline.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.