Monday, 23 of October of 2017

Age of Regret

While a faux-Cajun band massacred “Jolie Blon”
We danced in our masks and swore we’d always go on
But musicians go home at the end of their set
And the empty hall echoes “Juliet”
Two hearts and two masks made for quite a quartet
I kissed the mask and not Juliet

Games want their winners to bask in the light
They shuffle the losers somewhere out of sight
I ignored all those odds as I lay down that bet
Played my cards and I lost Juliet
Covered both red and black in the game of roulette
Came up zeroes and no Juliet

Enmeshed as we are in our small preparations
We no longer have all those grand aspirations
Yet we live in an age of monumental regret
I never meant to hurt Juliet
So small our dreams, so much to forget
Yet each hour recalls Juliet

The voice of the road commanded my senses
I slipped down blue highways without present tenses
Peering at windows for the right silhouette
For a shadow that sang Juliet
Took out the same ad in each small-town gazette
“Wanted: Juliet.”

Copyright © 2001 by Steven Brant. All rights reserved.