Animus, poetry from the veil

Return to Skull Island

I sadly sat demoting and abstracting
lust into desire,
to deal with my rejection,
while diving fearlessly into oblivion
through the neck of a shrinking bottle.

She sat there sipping mojitos,
helplessly entwined in King Kong's arms.
She thought about the skyscraper
she was about to scale,
while Kong eyed her treasures,
and I reflected on the mores of bestiality,
all the while abstracting my rejection
endlessly toward love.

I joined them, noting wordlessly that Kong,
though brute was still a friend of mine.
Miss Wray then eyed me in a way
that sweat began to glisten on my brow.
I crossed my legs so Kong could scarcely tell
how much sweet Fay could mean to me.

Then to hurt me,
as jungle beasts are want to do,
Kong turns to me,
adjusts his tie into his polyester pants,
watched playfully by Fay,
and grunts that he and she
will fly to Reno in his plane.
I leave downtrodden,
abstracting loss to minor victory.

Then yesterday I hear
that Kong has met his maker,
so to speak,
while flying high,
had turned to Fay
and eyed the Grand Canyon,
spread out there before him,
had clutched his hairy chest and fell,
down to earth forever.

"Those planes will do it," said a friend.
I grinned,
abstracting tragedy to joy.
" No, no," I laughed,
and paused until the laughter ceased,
"It's not the plane that killed poor Kong,
'twas beauty killed the beast."