Poetry Saturday: Nero

He smiled as the castle burned,

High as a kite

On the fumes of brick and poetry.

My rusted Icarus.

I’d never take your wings.

You crash and burn under your own arrogance.

 

He burned  souls  for light.

Breath it in.

Like a coyote

Finding prey among the ashes.

The younger the sweeter,

Tender meat.

My drowning Oedipus.

Mother’s pride and joy,

But never enough to be her king.

 

He dined on Chinese and blood,

Winking at the world

High on the taste of fear.

He never played the fiddle,

Bass turned to treble in his hands.

Not Prometheus as he thought he was,

But Mars and Hades in one.

 

When his infamy ran out

Tomorrow digested him.

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