Sunday, January 23, 2011

Fin De Siecle



Sigmund Freud visits the local tribal casino,

Sits down,

And in his heavy Austrian accent, says,

"Hit me."



Vladimir Lenin, colorless and severe, agitates to have the pot collectivized,

And is thrown out by bouncers.

He makes his way through the strange city,

Boards a train, then transfers to a steamship,

Finally going into exile in Paris.



Consider:

Why does the sight of the ace of spades make certain of the dancers go upstairs together,

Undress,

And fall into whispered discussion of each other's dreams?

Why does the queen of hearts induce silly laughter

And drunken tears?

Why does the nine of diamonds

Cause sudden grim departure,

Isolation,

Suicide?



A former football star and an expensive prostitute are tableside,having a tractor-pull.

As long as she holds him between her fingers like that,

He will burn.

He is confident enough to wear a pink shirt;

Is he a communist?

He certainly dreams of annexing her,

Controlling her media,

Installing a puppet government.



Through all of this,

Sigmund Freud has been losing his shirt.

He is quietly terrified.

The chips have become imagoes,

The dealer a devouring vagina.

He stands up,

Mops his brow,

Trembles.

Oh, Sigmund,

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar;

But sometimes,

It is a baton passed from careless fingers

Into doom.



At a little cafe near the Seine,

Something unusual happens at that very moment--

Lenin sets down his cup,

Dabs his lips with a napkin,

Leans back,

And laughs like a schoolgirl.

The ace of spades is folded inside his bill,

And he cannot control himself,

Cannot, for the life of him,

Stop.

_______

for One Shoot Sunday

23 comments:

dustus said...

A smoking hot vixen walks into a bar...ouch. lol You weave together a postmodern gem with both sensitivity and levity, and with many layers of meaning both historical and psychological.

hedgewitch said...

Lenin and I are dyin here! Satire meets psychoanalysis with all the characters of legend playing with a less than full deck. From the tractor pull to the devouring vaginas, this is full of extensive poetic goodness, and your cigar is definitely more than just a cigar.

mac said...

Freud should know, luck is a game best left to the Jung. Lenin should quit Stalin and just go upstairs already, it might help his attitude.

The The Ace of Spades is magical !

Kay said...

great pick on the leads here! ;)

happy sunday

repressedsoul said...

I love to see masses of irony, I wonder what sigmund would have made of this prompt lol I bet for one he'd have loved your satire ;)

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This is hilarious,and your zany intelligence, wit and humor are a constant amazement. How do you DO it??????? I grinned through this entire poem. Just loved it. A total Trip.

Jerry said...

wow, I just couldn't keep up. don't mix your metaphores.:)
Frued, Jung, Stalin....Lenin...where does it end. I fold.

Mama Zen said...

This is beyond cool. Even without Jung.

Ami Mattison said...

How utterly and completely original, Fireblossom! As far as I'm concerned, this wins for entertainment value alone. I think Freud is laughing at this one...oh, wait, that's me. Sorry, I was projecting again. Wonderful postmodern satire going on here. Great writing!

Lulú said...

This one brings me sheer delight, Chica. I wanted to be there with Lenin when he discovered the ace! :)

haikulovesongs said...

Brilliant! This is stunning on so many levels.

jen revved said...

This is so good it's a spiritual orgasm. Really-- there goes my tender button; time to take my stuff out of the dryer. Let us go then, you and I, to Paris. All of my characters are there and now Lenin and Freud...xxxxj

nance marie said...

those cigars are always acting
they never play the part of themselves
i actually went
to a tractor pull this summer
and it was more than meets the eye

Greyscale Territory said...

Wonderful layers of irony! Lenin and Freud dicing with a pack of cards! Amazing images!

Glynn said...

I love how you developed Lenin and Freud and mixed them into this. Perhaps the Germans put Lenin into a sealed train car and transported him to the casino, hoping for a revolution -- and only getting that school girl's laugh. Good poem.

Lynn said...

This is amazing. :)

Cloudia said...

your muse runs!

TALON said...

Loved it, Shay! I felt like a voyeur.

La Belette Rouge said...

Dear Tiger-friend,
What I love:
1. The image of Freud going into a casino had me laughing out loud.
2. It must of been his Id that got him into the place. His Superego would never allow it.
3. "Hit me." in the context of Freud has masochistic ring to it.
4. LOL@ "the pot collectivitized".
5. Train as collective.
6 Steamship as a metaphor of hostility moving one.
7. Exile to Paris, le sigh!.
8. The ace as an image of the Self.
9. The Queen of hearts as anima.
10. The 9 of diamonds makes we want to go get a book on Tarot to learn what it means.
11. The pink shirt and then Freud losing his shirt. LOVE it!
12. Casino turns into Dali canvas.
13. The ending was perfect and yet I didn't want it to. Stop.

Reflections said...

Love the layers here, referenced deep within a psychoanalytical approach filled then again with satirical blend. Wonderful piece.

Lydia said...

Speechless. See #1-13 in LBR's comments and consider ditto. In fact, ditto everyone's comments, press them tightly into dice that, when thrown, sound like enthusiastic applause.

Tabitha Bird said...

Oh, I didn't want that to end! I wanted you to pick up a few more names and make them look like school girls caught with their panties down in the back seat. Sigh. never mind. Next time? :)

Oh, and I would dare! (RE: your comment on my blog ;P

moondustwriter said...

Hot, sexy and psycho analysis for that fellow Sigmund over there

Wow Shay you just keep racking 'em up