King Of Lost Avenue

King Of Lost Avenue
© Surazeus
2017 01 09

Green rain drizzles on asphalt streets where cars
glide gleaming gold past endless rows of homes
while ravens on phone lines watch people walk
in stores and cafes on Lost Avenue.

Inside the Crippled Pegasus cafe,
Robert leans back and laughs, smoking cigar,
then drinks scorching mocha with Irish Creme
while watching girls stroll on Lost Avenue.

"The Middle Ages when the church was strong
was no more than serial killers with swords
who wore gold crowns and called themselves good kings,
then ruled gangs of thieves on Lost Avenue."

Peter gasps and leans forward with wide eyes.
"But every man elected president
descends from kings who ruled the Sceptered Isle,
and everyone who walks Lost Avenue."

Samuel grins and sips sweet peppermint tea.
"Whether we all come from peasants or kings
we all now share this land of liberty,
equal under law on Lost Avenue."

Robert winks at Carleen across the room.
"Men started revolutionary wars
to crown themselves kings, but now we elect
the one who talks best on Lost Avenue."

Samuel laughs and eats vanilla ice cream.
"So we control our revolution now
through transforming game of democracy,
voting for our king of Lost Avenue."

Peter stands and aims gun at every face.
"We will make America great again
and restore the kingdom of Christ to law
by enforcing good on Lost Avenue."

Robert laughs and sprays mocha in his face
then snatches gun from his hand with a smirk,
and everyone goes back to their small talk
while rain keeps falling on Lost Avenue.

Peter stares in dark abyss of his eyes.
"I cannot maintain glamour of my faith
so illusion of heaven dissipates,
leaving me naked on Lost Avenue."

Robert plants hand on his shoulder and grins.
"We invent meaning for why we should live
to survive and love in meaningless game,
so eat, sing, and dance on Lost Avenue."

Samuel drinks wine while hiding angel wings.
"If I were hiding angel wings of light
I would deliver message of good hope,
but we live and die on Lost Avenue."

Robert and Peter drape arms while they sing.
"We are the Jesters and Clowns of this world
because we know where the dragon lies curled,
singing till Death comes to Lost Avenue."

Robert walks alone at midnight in rain.
"When I look in the abyss I see me,
though I am a branch broken from clan tree,
yet I must play king of Lost Avenue."