everything’s roses

The Rose Tree
by William Butler Yeats

‘O words are lightly spoken,’ 
Said Pearse to Connolly, 
‘Maybe a breath of politic words 
Has withered our Rose Tree; 
Or maybe but a wind that blows 
Across the bitter sea.’ 
‘It needs to be but watered,’ 
James Connolly replied, 
‘To make the green come out again 
And spread on every side, 
And shake the blossom from the bud 
To be the garden’s pride.’ 
‘But where can we draw water,’ 
Said Pearse to Connolly, 
‘When all the wells are parched away? 
O plain as plain can be 
There’s nothing but our own red blood 
Can make a right Rose Tree.’

I said,
“everything’s roses!”
my half truths juxtaposed
with the counterfeit foliage
because in this
house of cards
deceit is avant garde
the roses are dying
as the paint is drying
and everything
that’s dead
looks better
painted red
a. duncan, 2019

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Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

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