Chimera Times
You’ve lived beyond your relevance—
Another song, another age,
Another line while in a trance,
Routine by prompt, an empty stage.
The art lives past the life, and all
They want is what you did when young,
The bright first thing, the curtain call,
When fireworks flew and bells were rung.
Yet still the audience appears.
The props are now collectible,
But all creation’s in arrears,
And art is imperfectible.
A shiver slices to your core.
Your fans will get the eulogy
Before you end the trilogy
You started many years before:
A snowball with a granite shard,
The encore to an emptied hall,
The dance all done, the classics played.
Back then it was not so hard
To be the major act, enthrall
Your fans, at least the ones who stayed.
A fad will rise, a bubble pop
With the slightest touch. The greatest hits
Came out before you called it quits,
And “timeless love” was set to stop.
You won the day but lost the war,
Remembered as the one who did
That thing, you know, the thing he did,
The thing he does for one more tour,
The thing he did, the thing he did before.
Feature Image: The Chimera, by Louis Jean Desprez, 1777-1784. Source: The Metropolitan Museum of Art