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Tiburon Silke’s drunken farewell toast to Priscus

’Tis better to feel the cold rim
Than cold alpine death,
Better to be the crushed olive
Than the roots below

Better the halogen collar
Than a postcard from the abyss,
The empress veneer
Than the mortal project

Whose is the first finger
On the chalice?
The hand that strangles the cradle
Stays the blade

If honesty was a farewell
’Tis better to find oneself here,
Last,
Than on the edge of hell, there

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John Q. Publius

by John Q. Publius

John Q. Publius writes for Republic Standard and runs the blog The Anatomically Correct Banana.