RetroLounge
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Jun-16-08 07:05 AM
Original message |
The RetroLounge Daily Poem Thread (Mon 7/16/2008) |
|
The End
The end of ambition is a loaf of hard bread unbladed on a table.
I still want to cut the bread, to eat the bread, but it is too late.
I still want to shake the salt shaker, pregnant in the shape of a snowman.
They are what they are.
The disfigured. The hardened. The simple.
The snowman's eyes are not eyes. The eyes are not a window. They are reticent as paper. Here, there are
no Greek gods to write about, just the spiky cries of a baby,
and the private legend of her birth. Here, there are slats of shutters to look out of.
Mucous. Slab. Skin flakes that reappear and disappear.
There are kisses that turn to rashes. Rashes that ruffle around the wrists.
In the end of ambition, there are angles again, minerals flattened from trophies,
dust to bat away, the end of everything masculine, and vials and vials of joy.
Victoria Chang
**************
:hi:
RL
|
BlueIris
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Jun-16-08 09:04 AM
Response to Original message |
RetroLounge
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Jun-16-08 05:35 PM
Response to Reply #1 |
CaliforniaPeggy
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Jun-16-08 10:51 AM
Response to Original message |
|
Ouch!
Seems like Blue Monday...
This is one sad poem...
So, I have no idea why I liked it!
Thank you...
:hi:
|
RetroLounge
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
|
Mon Jun-16-08 05:36 PM
Response to Reply #2 |
4. Don't need to be sad to relate, I guess... |
DU
AdBot (1000+ posts) |
Mon May 13th 2024, 07:21 PM
Response to Original message |