A new poem by Grant Buday

In the Afternoon of the World

I admire the bravado with which you gave in
to weakness and entered a life of service
to the grey-toned gods of doubt and musing,
purveyors of luminous confusions that arcade
ambition and hollow the plinths of reason,
while all the while you yawn away
the afternoon of the world,
rubbing your belly then rolling in the sun
like a galleon settling in sand.