Poem Of The Week | Teleology by Aaron Lembo
By Aaron Lembo
There cannot be design without a designer; contrivance without a contriver; order without choice; arrangement, without any thing capable of arranging.
When stood on the promenade you can see
steely-blue waves as consistent as gamblers
rolling in and out of the neon casinos up-shore.
Entrance doors are guarded by big brutes
who scowl, and stare with menace; they grin
at bold cleavage – guest lists make them bow.
Ideally, when entering, your shoes should shine
much like that perfectly designed watch
I came across one day while kicking
delicately formed sand castles into the sea.
I chewed on my last cigar, marvelled at my find.
I had just lost my father’s property on Red,
I saw billboards advertise ‘New Clubs’ on the pier,
I pawned the watch, put everything on Black.
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