Yes!
I believe in Romeo, as Juliet said
when she lay in the coffin pretending to be dead.
That Tonto is no good, said the ambush chief
and I, guzzling gas, can get no relief.
The father figure who looked like Charlie Chan
walked like Charlie Chaplin when he kicked the can.
Lindsay Lohan is an also-ran,
not an alloy but a metal impure,
and the disease will have no cure
when my reasoning, sound but obsolete as bonnets,
has gone the way of Sir Thomas Wyatt’s sonnets.
Because you can’t strut your stuff
when you’re old and gray
and there isn’t time enough,
there’ll be some changes made
beside the hemlock tree today
in the sweetness of the shade.
So I say yes, and I pray
for a change of heart or in the weather
or the bread and butter eaten by Werther
who has to decide whether
or not or rot or snot or tit or tot
nobody wants you when you’re doubt and out
and this I know without a doubt,
Soon we”ll be without the moon
let the luck that was once a blaze remain an ember
I swear to be true to you come December
as long as we’re together in June.
— Molly Arden
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Author: The Best American Poetry
