Love is Empty, Friendship Dead
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
“Pierrot, a macaroon! I cannot live without a macaroon!”
The puppets, dressed in satin, purply, ruffs,
And skirts of apple green, cerise their belts,
Appear to be suspended, strings from cuffs.
One wants a well-baked macaroon that melts
On puppet tongue inside black sweetheart lips.
The other wants that would-be eater, kissed
By him with black-face mouth. He wants her hips
Inside that lurid green. A greed is hissed
Throughout. The clowns and shepherds find that they
Cannot control the stretching strings. Clowns sigh
And shepherd turns his tunicked friend to prey.
The simple ones and clowns end up awry.
The stylish, selfish ones come out on top.
The world turns out to be a heartless prop.
~ Phillip Whidden