Friday, July 18, 2025

The Last Nights of Club Ozymandias - poem

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

The Last Nights of Club Ozymandias in San Diego

 

 

Shelley always makes one think

(often about how to pronounce his middle name)

 

 

I met a tout along a darkening street

Who said – “two trunkless legs of neon dance

There, upon that wall, on neon feet

An electromechanical contrivance to prance

 

In remnants, but wiggling hips and pouty lips

Tell that the artisan well caught the lust

Of lonely sailors as a pretty girl strips -

In time those young men and the dancer will be dust

 

These letters appear, written in cold fire:

I am the Queen of Club Ozymandias

Look upon me with your hot desire

Look upon me, and imagine us…

 

Tomorrow all will be leveled

 

A housing estate will arise, a planner’s scar

Nothing will remain of laughter and drinks

Of sailors flinging their pay upon the bar

For a dancing girl now silent as the Sphinx”

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