mon plaisir

I bite my tongue in your sordid presence
sacred blood swallowed with rage
rage against your swaggering insensitivity
focused cruel resentment toward anyone with subtler sensibility
superior talent
but lesser rank in the community of monied sycophants
that you call 'friends'
obscene hangers on
nouveau riche social climbers
devoid of a single noble instinct

In another century
it would be my perfumed glove across your arrogant smirk
pistols at dawn
the exquisite pleasure
of aiming at your forehead in a chilling mist
staring into your incredulous cowardly eyes
squeezing the trigger of primal justice
exalting in the gory crush of your brain
collapse of your corrupt body
face down in the damp cold bog

but nowadays
you are protected from my kind
modernity has insured your freedom to continually stand truth on her head
mesmerize the masses with smoke and mirrors
so you grow in false confidence day by day
emboldened by delusions of grandeur
unbridled bad taste
convinced in your secret cleverness
that a hierarchy of creative values no longer exists
to challenge the reign of the lowest common denominator

at the height of your powers
languishing in fame and fortune
when you least expect it
disguised as a mute beggar
I'll slide up behind you at one of your costume parties
surrounded by your everpresent admiring entourage
slash my straight razor across your fat throat
laugh irreverently as you choke on your horror
your slumping body
stunned soul
suffering seismic shock
as I slip away in the ensuing panic

timing is everything
revenge after so prolonged a wait is the sweetest