Oyster Boy Review 17  
  Fall 2003
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Poetry


The Coronation

Steven Barza


You were my major entity,
klieg light, oil lamp.

I offered cordial amity.
You saw me as a temp.

You bore the force Necessity,
on lovers put your stamp.

I scratched my head, thought Oddity
when people called me chump.

You justified your falsity
as miniscule, a bump,

said, "No one has eternity—
so let's enjoy our romp."

From plenitude to scarcity—
the seams of living crimp.

You left me here in paucity,
a refugee, a tramp.

I outlived my utility.
I'm master of the dump,

sovereign of a nullity,
of coarse weeds in a clump.

I briefly stroked your vanity.
Your mind's your body's pimp.

I've lost a bit of sanity.
My heart is prone to cramp.

You were my matchless quality.
I cannot find the ramp

to ardent sexuality.
I drown in dreams of damp.

You left behind this cavity.
I deem, I crown you champ.

You always liked formality,
the circumstance, the pomp.