The Minstrel of Maxwell

dried up, used tea bag

“You have defeated me and my sad songs.” A poem.

The Minstrel of Maxwell

The Minstrel of Maxwell   Once a minstrel, I, Like Cleopatra’s lover, Aspired for you Sunday night, But you—invisible, air, Alternating merciless and bastard— Neither considered me nor arrived. Now I am left with old tea and oranges, Watching love stories from the 1950s On my plastic TV. You have defeated me and my sad [...]