A Sententious Woman

A poem for Finals, Round 1, Slam '04--Use Proverbs

A fool rushes in, mixing his melodrama
with a Sunday dinner. He is expecting

the goose that laid the golden egg.
Crumbs are served. To invest in his world

will not be to her best interest.
When a squinting centurion flying close to

the sun takes on a hundred men, a battle
blazes in their eyes. Foolish plans are

rooted in evil and prophets are wanted.
All the diamonds in a cerulean sky fading

into a Belladonna's Mediterranean syllables
can't buy that woman!

The snares of deception unravel with her
arched steps sailing into the grand design.

She is much too rich to follow folly. The
climate shows a bleached landscape as

pennilous fools study her walking stick
making unicorns jump about on the muddy

pavement. She is always making more
sense than lazy predictions. She enters

an iron horse, misty, with spidery words,
fond of The Wanderer--his breath the smell

of cherry-plum maxims--proving to us,
the baited audience, she holds a satisfied mind.