A SLING BACK TO SALLY. (MS. BOWLES, ONCE THE TOAST OF MAYFAIR ) AFTER ISHERWOOD.

 

Guiltless, work less, here in this deep end, in this sling back
to the not-so-selective slung back, this slum, this time
of rebounds, of reverberations, KitKats and ghettos.

Wilkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome…

to the deep end, where the guilt is less, less selective,
less to depend on, more flexible, less to wear, less of the weary
where we dive deeper, beneath the covers, below the uniform
while they march overhead, over the deep end
where we dived, dive, down to this dive

where the fingernails have grown green, decadence is divine

before death.

Where we say no…
no to depending on, no to marching, no to understanding,
no to guilt, no to work, more sex, more pineapples, Cliff, Chris?

Always something sweet before the shaft, before being shafted

here, in this deeper end, this sling back, slung, no slip to support
but this time (comes gullible) this time around. Maybe this time

I’ll be lucky, maybe this time… let’s see…

Life is Cabaret, old chum.
Life is a party, in bomb shelter, where we bring our own bondages.

 

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

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