Poem 031, Sonnet 12: Je-June? Poem by Samer Madbak

Now that the morbid days of May are spent-
With no bloom noted, no recovery-
June sets in, and he’s truly vehement
To keep it up: the tragic travesty.

Now does he promise that he’ll make amends,
And flaunts his numbers, warranting some joy,
But how my sickened spirit comprehends
His baleful bearing, his pernicious ploy.

Thus, knowing that his courses are jejune
I challenge him to generosity
Demanding that he grants a rural boon:
My friends, the Valley, Nature, Deity!

Hence giving, I will laud his affluence,
Or else, farewell him with malevolence!


Beirut
June 1st 1988