From a workshop in which we had to choose one abstract noun from our pre-made list, and, closing our eyes, one concrete: mine were chaos/curtain.
Exit West
Curtains try and shield the storm within.
Drawn they were, now dancing,
undoing themselves like floozies,
whirling to the black music of the house,
monstrous mortgage
in the dumb blue mountains
far from center stage.
The family exited west,
and the West ate them.
The curtains, flowered,
wag their cheer,
intertwine like lovers, sashay,
or violently lust and disengage,
over, over again.
Unlike the occupants,
they keep their sheets intact.
Night drops, sleeting
its white question.
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
Share
Print
Save
Follow
And of course:
The curtains, flowered,
wag their cheer,
intertwine like lovers, sashay,
or violently lust and disengage,
over, over again.
-gene.