Your Name Here: Poems
“After all, a duck may be somebody’s uncle. Or niece. I am lost. I ask directions of a horse-faced policeman who gives no satisfying reply. Or is it? “Somewhere up there ... You’ll be sure to find it,” he offers. I’d like to wipe the smug expression off his cheeks. Or is it a kindly and beatific smile? I continue along what I think is my way and come to a grassy riviera, a few rusted hotels browsing among smug new ones. A large red and yellow plastic sign says, “Cinema.”
Those rocks have a basal...t look about them. I was here before once. I can tell by the way the breeze scurries by, patting my cheek as it does so. O solemn breeze! You are the one thing I wanted to have happen to me, the only thing that matters in this concrete canyon of years, so why can’t I get close to you? Already you have made off with the chickens I was taking to the cinema, planning to have them for dinner later. Now I shall go hungry, for you and for them, telling my adventures to anyone who will listen, outside on the slippery alabaster stairs.MoreLess
Those rocks have a basal...t look about them. I was here before once. I can tell by the way the breeze scurries by, patting my cheek as it does so. O solemn breeze! You are the one thing I wanted to have happen to me, the only thing that matters in this concrete canyon of years, so why can’t I get close to you? Already you have made off with the chickens I was taking to the cinema, planning to have them for dinner later. Now I shall go hungry, for you and for them, telling my adventures to anyone who will listen, outside on the slippery alabaster stairs.MoreLess
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