Revived poem: A cricket's tale

[untonuggan]

This is a poem I unearthed from a creative writing class I took ages ago. I parsed out unnecessary language and images and added a new twist. I hope you like it.

A cricket's tale
by untonuggan

I do not understand people
who lavish money on decadent diadems,
monuments to transience:
quick cars, stiletto shoes, diamond rings,
a two hundred dollar haircut;
with the clatter of credit cards they trade
plastic debt for plastic rubbish bags.

I do not understand people
who abstain from any hint of pleasure,
for their world is full of sin;
people who seek a life everlasting miss
the passing beauty of this world:
one cricket’s chirp on a warm summer’s night,
a nearby train making a melody on its tracks.

For those who are curious, here is the much longer (and much weaker, because I overexplain, IMO) previous version:

Denying Bloomingdale’s

I do not understand those
who lavish money on decadent diadems,
monuments to transience:
quick cars stiletto shoes diamond rings,
a two hundred dollar haircut.
No more clinking of coins like Ebenezer,
for them it’s the clatter of credit cards.
More and more and more is not enough.
Didn’t their parents teach them
what money doesn’t buy?
Happiness doesn’t come ready-made, prepackaged, and gift-wrapped
in a Dean & Deluca deluxe bag.

I confess
I do love luscious nibbles of chocolate truffle,
creamy centers dripping infinitesimally slowly down my tongue.
I lick my lips, catlike.
For neither do I understand those
who cannot forgive themselves,
who seek an abeyance to their guilt from someone higher,
bearing fervent offerings of a flagellated heart.
I do not understand those
who tell us not to let tears stain our cheeks
when someone leaves this world
for what they say is a better place.
I do not understand those who deny
the passing beauty of this world:
one cricket’s chirp on a warm summer’s night,
a nearby train making a melody on its tracks.
So what if it doesn’t last?

For now heaven is but a dream
and so I savor my sweet chocolate
with all its imperfections.

Comments

[syntaxofthings]

You're right - I like the subtlety of the current version. It still strikes hard though with the exaggerations, and the "plastic rubbish bags". How often do we think about $200 haircuts being equivalent to plastic rubbish bags?

[untonuggan]

Thanks for the feedback! Definitely have been working on parsing back some of my more verbose and overexplanatory poetry from days of yore.