I might work on this later, but I'm off for Bellingham and may not be at a computer until Midnight. The first "Ex-Roomate" poem can only be seen in my upcoming Discarded chap.
Ex-Roommate (2)
I envision you in your new home,
taking spare time to reclaim
the phone number you never gave out
when you lived in the city
you're no longer welcome in now.
Your husband has long claimed
to himself you are not real,
He searches your few photo albums
and Princess Di collages
for blueprints, a map
to the the secret button
that will turn you off completely.
The children are even convinced
that they are not real,
but wonder why they still dream.
Your means of escape,
vying for a way out?
You confuse contradiction and irony
with interruptions.
The poetry of your world
is not dead yet.
It's just in hiding,
content to work from afar
with your impression.
as clear as if Picasso's Guernica
was sketched into the sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment