Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Little Napoleon

Little Napoleon
ruled his world,
with an iron appendage
taking whoever he wanted,
whenever he wanted.

Although a stump
of a man,
a troll with bad breath,
a lazy eye
and a crooked nose
with oversized
nostrils,
word got around
that he was blessed,
gifted, as it were,
and the women swore
the rumors were
true.

For years,
it was an endless,
breathless
orgy of sweaty,
fleshy excitement
with an ever changing retinue
of hungry femininity,
who wanted nothing
to do with him
once they collected
as many orgasms
as they could carry.

Little Napoleon
didn’t care.

He’d rather read a book
than talk to 99 percent
of the population anyway,
but still,
there were some cravings
that a book would never satisfy,
like
who was staring back at him
in the motel bathroom mirror?

The end crept in,
covertly,
manifesting itself
in ever diminishing
performances,
softer and softer,
gentle like his
grandmother’s
skin.

In desperation,
he tried pills,
shots,
prosthetics,
even resorting
to cognitive-behavioral therapy.

Though he was found
in a most undignified
position,

hanging from a shower rod,
bathrobe sash around his neck,
extension cord wrapped tightly
around his engorged
junk,

he would’ve been
mighty proud of this
erection.

32 comments:

  1. The line about cognitive-behavioral therapy made me smile Not sure where Napoleon leaves off and some other short neurotic begins.

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  2. Well, I'm only 5'9"... thanks for commenting.

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  3. What an ending, so much for that proud erection ~ I guess it comes with age or then nowadays there a pills that works wonder, they say ~ Thanks for joining us Mosk ~

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    1. Thanks, and the efficacy of the pills are greatly exaggerated. "Please, see a doctor if your erection last over four hours." Well, yeah... eventually I'd see a dr.

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  4. Oh, heavens! I just about spit out some cantaloupe just now. Hilarious!

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    1. I'm glad you were amused. I found it more of a pathetic caricature of masculine self-concept that defines itself by sexual performance. Again, I'm not a poet, but rather a documentarian. Thanks, de

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  5. Oh my goodness, the ending took me by surprise. You tell it like it is, Mosk; and I like that about you. Too bad it all had to end that way....poor dude.

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    1. Thanks, and yes, pity the poor man.

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  6. Wow! A truly marvelous write :D

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  7. SMiLes..
    humans will
    worship the
    smallest of
    junk..
    if that is
    what they
    are told to do..
    by others for
    acceptance
    true or
    false matters
    not.. small
    or large..
    the flavors
    of culture
    taste the
    same as different..
    large and small..:)

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    Replies
    1. I've often said that myself - thanks.

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  8. Another novel-in-verse! You manage to combine horror and wit. :)

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  9. What a sad conclusion... and says so much about the false images on masculinity... maybe he should have been allowed to be what he is..

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  10. Horrendous and funny, what a combination!

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    1. I'm assuming its nervous laughter, thanks.

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  11. What a harsh tale... and the image it leaves in the mind... *sigh*

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    1. Yes, please get that image out of your mind!

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  12. Autoerotic asphyxiation...what a way to go, or maybe perfect for that troubled little man.

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    1. It worked for Albert Dekker - why not Nappy?

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  13. A piece brilliantly done - rather shocking but the journey of the poem is wonderful.

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    1. Thanks - wasn't sure where this was going.

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  14. sounds like that guy from inXS. In excesss, indeed ~

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    1. Yes, my friend, sadly feeding the penis can become an exercise in excess.

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  15. Sad with a subtle touch of humor. I suppose there are some whose body image is too closely identified with self.

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  16. Love the lines comparing the texture of grandmother's skin.

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  17. There are strong put-downs from start to finish, yet one feels sorry for this poor caricature of a person wasted, identified in your poem

    much love...

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  18. An interesting poem, but I think you might have made it more interesting had Little Napoleon explained his life in his own words. >KB

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  19. Little Napoleon indeed. You've created the personna frighteningly well. Ugh....what an ending to a sad little life.

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  20. Dang. Dissolution and disillusionment reign in this empire. Harsh but well done.

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