Vain Words

All the words want their moment of glory, they all say, "Put me in coach."

                     Vain Words

    These words whirl around me,
      in a centrifugal golden zone,
                 no orbit decay,
              never slinging off
            into the void unless
            a poem is in the air, 
         then lunacy intervenes,
       because, as we all know,
      the moon is destabilizIng. 

      Some of them hang about,
                the clingy ones,
            sticking in my throat
         until they are disgorged,
                lured away by a 
     charmingly seductive setting,
        a firmament to showcase
  their luscious syllabification and
   their unique talent for verbiage.
   They want their name in lights.

        They have been preening,
       preparing for their close up
                  "since forever"
              and would only ask
              that their best side
                  face the page
       (and their adoring readers).
        That is really the only way
          they could be seduced
       from their cherished perch
              in my imagination.