by Debashish Haar
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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She prepares a bowl of metaphors,
spreads butter on each image.
At times he starves
on tasteless soup and cabbage.
She is the high priestess of art.
She dyes her fiberglass hair
with wood polish and rum;
he is the only life: a malleable face,
a potbelly and a cheerleader;
a connoisseur in the night.
Copyright©2007, Debashish Haar, All Rights Reserved ®
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|Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)
|Oh man, I love this poem!! Great stuff.|
|Reviewed by Marie Wadsworth
|lol. interesting. this sounds like a match made in heaven -- not. These two people aren't real or so it seems. Just an abstraction of reality. This is you at your best. Los respectos.|
|Reviewed by Kate Burnside
|:)) BRILLIANT! Tony and Cleo from StenchOfOldNile Street... xxx|
|Reviewed by Axilea MU
|Surprising and effective portraits.