#PROLOGUE

The Myth of Damocles as told by Uncle Lenny
He was this dude who complimented King Dionysius for having it so good and being so wealthy and having a fuck all easy life. And the King was like, “Bitch, I got problems too.”
You sit here in my cushy cushy throne with this fucking broadsword over your head.
Then I’ll march in every mother fucker who hates you
And really wants to cut your fucking head off.
And see how you fucking like it.”

#POEM

Swing, blade o’r my head, swing.
Drop down and do your terminable thing.
A few inches inch lower or just a snapped string.
And spare me from this insufferable King.

My wits are worn down to the dwindling fray,
As he forces me to be king for a day.
Why threaten with such a metaphorical display
And make me a parable to cut the way?

I just complimented his golden piss pot
On his wealth and privilege without a thought.
And strapped to his allusory throne was the thanks that I got?
“Rich people got problems,” is the morale he sought?

Just have me bargain for barley for days at a time
Or show me the stacks of scrolls that need signed
Please, show me the tedium of the bureaucratic grind
Or any of your daily problems that happen to mind.

You always had a penchant for the dramatic
And acted in ways that were so very erratic
Must your swift vengeance be so operatic?
You can educate without being traumatic.

I grow weary of this protracted affair
And wish death would come demand his fare.
To think the end is hanging just there
And all I can do is offer a prayer

“So, drop you fucking thing, drop
And make this hellish play come to a stop.
Fall like the red curtain dropped from the top.
And bring things to a close with a chop.”