misspent youth

“You know that bit where…”

You know? You should.

Or perhaps you never listened well.

Perhaps yours was a misspent youth;

meditations on mountains always framed

in ever too-small dusty panes

overshadow what’s what on torn pages

and lamentation devolves to sad.

Or Cupid’s supposed bow, being never sent,

implodes instead and mis-creates

vague memories of irrelevant worlds

once content to be forgotten, but now

at Rainbow’s end the scene is dismal

and missing links are inundating

the sum of the intelligent child.

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