The Stoic Roach (Rondeau Redoublé)

Am I or am I not a wretched roach?
I tarried and you snuck into my cell
and I, an artful poacher, have been poached
to nurse another bug-eyed ne'er-do-well.

Larva, larva nestled in my belly
your shimmies set my viscera abroach
and where I had resolve, I now have jelly;
am I or am I not a wretched roach?

Your mother pinned my body like a brooch,
benumbed my will with balm of asphodel
and when I felt your little self encroach
I tarried and you snuck into my cell.

Her parting words? I think she said ‘Farewell, '
or ‘Here's a pumpkin Cinders, for your coach'.
She orphaned you beside my caramel shell
and I, an artful poacher, have been poached.

Hush…your mother's flown beyond reproach
and left me all befuddled by her spell
and passers-by must think me otiose
to nurse another bug-eyed ne'er-do-well.

But let the genes do battle; there's no hell
or heaven for their transitory hosts.
Are you or am I not a wasp as well?
A white cocoon or umber pot; which ghost
am I or am I not?

by Diane Hine

Comments (5)

When our senses for love is overridden. The the inner eyes to see further and beyond today..
Fated to be in a togetherness... thread of love - is their fate!
Maybe the fate of all love is fatal, but from death gives life...
'The fate of fatal lovers' - a much told story with a myriad of endings! Glad you added another to the list
fantastic poem! a spectacular message wonderfully expressed!