The Lambretta Vendetta

44

By R. Martin Basso

A Brief Poetry Break

.

LAMBRETTA Vendetta. Lambretta vendetta.

Whom exactly have you killed?

Children barely in their ‘teens,

Smoking and drinking, like

The parents before them,

Whose generation "doesn't understand?"

Glib lawmen swinging clubs,

Upon their favorite brawling sailors?

Glum pantomimes scratching out the fleas

From their hippie-natted manes?

Sorrowful soldiers at war with themselves,

Walking ‘bout umbrella-clad, as if

Anticipating storms?

EVEN on the warmest days,

Even on the clearest days,

Even on the brightest days

We do not see the shining sun we only see the rain.

TIME is passing quickly, now,

(Much more so than once before.)

Nights slip by without much pause,

Without beginning, without end,

Just as Zephyr's seafront breezes

Tell of distant coastal rains.

IS it any wonder that

The beatniks playing chess, and sitting,

In their favorite java temples,

Have not read those danger signals etched upon their sleeves?

They are waging; although patient.

They are raging; although pensive.

They are screaming; although passive.

And, they are scheming in the company, of

People once-deemed ‘friends.'

THE Lambretta Vendetta,

Hadn't a single vendetta REGRETTA!

And indeed, agreed,

That being bold is simple,

When there is no one else around.

.

© 2007 - R. MARTIN BASSO

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