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The Years 1981 And 2026, A Poem For N L S
The days and dates of two thousand twenty-six
align exactly with those of nineteen eighty-one---
the very worst year of my life, bar none;
a year that seemed cursed with reversals, vanquishments, and tricks.
And you were the eye of that storm, Nance,
that began to assail me in October of the year before;
and in every change or collision of circumstance,
I was reminded of the kind of unfaithful whore
you proved to be. Yet your appearance, always beautiful,
persistently and relentlessly haunted my soul:
your provocative smile and nearly waist-length silken locks,
almost naked, fully engorged, and clad only in a pair of thigh-high socks.
Starward-Led
