claudius we hear
you are of the immortals
smelling the sky on you
smelling the high on you
on tiptoe motorbike
with plastic drum kit
and sexy nikon
loving the girls of paris
having to go through the brow
of the boulevard
in a busted biscuit tin
what news from the front old friend
what news from the ash heap
see where mediterranean boys
sharpen their gut rippers dark at night
the way you conjured
a tale of mutton heads
a rumor of bloody minds
the politics of a pancreas
clogged with fat
feeling somehow good
somehow apposite
what to do with your spastic creatures
your palatine your english bulldog
wishing all that were mine
thus we danced and sang that song
but now the patronized
hold forth and get the love
with none to spare
good claudius in parting
pastiche in memoriam
del fuego sensorium
what has become of
our old scoutmaster
who left us to drown
on a dangerous day
About the Poet:
w v sutra was born in Africa and raised in Southeast Asia and the Middle East, borne hither and thither on the surging tides of cold war and soft power. He has been at various times a rock musician, a public health professional, and an educator. He began writing poetry during the Covid-19 lockdown. His work can be found in various print and online journals. He lives and works on a horse farm on the shoulders of the Holston Mountains in East Tennessee. Twitter/X @w_v_sutra
Ephemeral Elegies 
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