Sunday, April 3, 2011

TEA PARTY


Zoo-girl, your den is empty.
You have some kind of blister-condition.

Havoc and lust and long bodies. Mouths talk, teeth glisten.
Your long-winded letters are hot sobs

And ink-screams. You didn't mean to mail out
Your collection of metaphors.

Terror sucks the grapes
Of cold dictator-nations.

Days later come the lily-girls to tea.
They bring their china-smiles, their

Pale personalities. Some even bring their clean white
Children. One by one you crack their shallow

Cups. And then each chair is empty.
Air is your only friend.

2 comments:

CJ said...

I'm pleased

That your mother gave me your blogspot

On the back of a torn doctor's appointment.

Life's funny, ain't it?

Poetgirl said...

Indeed life is funny. Love the torn off note. There's a poem wriggling around in that image. Thanks for coming, CJ.