BARON MUNCH

By Beayanka Kellyman


What a perfect imperfect night for a dance
The smell of humidity and a inactive summer in the atmosphere
Frozen dew falls with no true direction
Landing on me; their uniqueness subtly enhances my perfection
The perfect ensemble just for her
My winter best for winter’s best night
From cranium to feet I am hers and tonight’s best knight
Primped and proper surely the dew will avoid my natural crown
Settle on my shoulders and escort me on this night on the town.
My presents will certainly complement her sheathed gown

The guests do not yet know they are missing my presence.
When I arrive they will be in awe
They will all hail the king of the winter and of the fall
But how shall I approach thee?
What shall I say?
Will she extend her grace no matter my sentence?
Of course she will because I am I
The kittens all meow once one eyes I
Dark, elevated and striking is how one must describe my appearance
Skin suave like the buttocks of an infant; or infantile unlike my maturity
I am the scent of vanilla in the spring or any season for that matter
Thou must appreciate my pleasant fragrance
for it is often imitated. But the copy is nothing like the real me.
A lord with effortlessly lacquered locks and a moustache delightful for a painter.

Where art thou?
Why haven’t you glided my way as of yet?
What shall I tell thee?
How shall I introduce myself?
It is I Lord Munch, Lord of Lords King of Kings
Fighter of bulls, slayer of men and dragons
Possessor of impeccable style and charm
My respect fed to me by way of silver spoon by my peers
My admiration envied by the masses
Poor peasants those who have wings but do not fly
Who will cut the cake at this party?
But maybe I shall tell thee about thine’s self
Thou is as pretty as my favored Chelsea boots
as sweet as my stench
as balanced and curved as a personal timepiece
my honey dew melon if it was a cantaloupe
You are my other half, together we will be more than whole
Destined to be intertwined to leave one soul – mine
De beer or Cartier?
No haste dear mined over matter

There you are!!
I begin to approach without my characteristic stealth
Is this what love does? Yes
Will you reject me? Never
Hello. My lady my chariot awaits you.
I witness frightened amusement park on your face
and a rejectful tone release with words undecipherable
I perform a hasty twirl to catch a glimpse of the body;
the intended receiver of your displeasing utterances.
I see no one; a swift gentleman he must have been
disappearing before the conclusion of my double-foot pirouette
causing me to turn my back on my love for naught.
To whom did you speak?
You say you. I survey the event with my eyes sans body
I say I? How can thou protest my love?
Has thou not heard of my triumphs?
Shall I tell thee?
I killed fiddy men
Saved many a distressed damsel
Slayed dragons of land and of seas!
All without spoiling a lock on my chiny chin chin!
You say my endeavors are of no interest to you.
How can that be. I am faultless by nature
handsome beyond repair; a gift to the earth.
Thou must not be well I shall retreat to avoid contracting your delusion.

I retire to my chamber to reflect on the days events
What an interesting night it was for the interesting knight I am
No one bowed to my grace or applauded my conquests
It mustn’t have been real. Why of course it was!
My overcoat is still wet and I am all of the handsome man my mirror reflects.

Could my love really have denied me? Can anyone?
Someone. Possibly. Quite unlikely. But possibly.
Definitely not my love, I must have spoken to another.
The free beverages perhaps blurred my gaze
Led me on a path to an ill-mannered dame.
I will sleep soundly for now knowing we will meet again.