AFTER US, THE DELUGE

You lads so fine, coming to raze to rubble,

hardened of heart, with your fist clenched up high,

planning new promised lands for mankind’s trouble,

to you farewell I sing, farewell, goodbye.

My defiance? Long rained on, drowned, time-muted;

rust having fused my scabbard to my sword.

The wild and light of heart are better suited

to my own taste now, more by me adored.

My friends delight in seminars, thought sifting,

by next day back to their slums, ungreedy.

By nightfall from their beds their heads uplifting

furtively gleeful: Diem perdidi.

They do not piously go girls a-kissing,

nor fecund females seeing, lay their claim.

At coffee shop dank tables all night dissing

they are the knights of less salubrious dames.

The friends I keep are spendthrift types, and flighty.

Our talents burying, self-laid to waste.

With a rose in our hair, we’re fops almighty,

after us, let the deluge come – make haste!