Monsignor On His Desk
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
0
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My Monsignor on his desk
Sate him
Now and then being
Of summer heat
The flies assaulted him
Bang! a newspaper came down
Then silence again
And scribbling
The sound of the pen
Scribbling over the papers
My Monsignor ate fast
And junk
Ate in his stress and
Hurry
Wanted so much from life!
And life nagged him
Because life nags
And nags the most whom
She sees wants the most:
With her
There's no meritocracy
No deserving:
My Monsignor dug
His teeth in a dessert fruit
Dropped a few juice drops
Over the inked manuscript
No worry!
The drops were little and
Fell in non strategic
Positions.
My Monsignor continued
To write and write
For he knew that he
Was
By far the greatest of the
Oblivion Troupe
Fortune won him no honors
No not even one
Yet still continued he
In his writing, writing
Flow, flow, flow,
Generous and irresistibly
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