Simon Says "Pick Up Your Laundry"
Simon Says "Pick Up Your Laundry"
By Stephen Martin
An angular salt,
Corrupted by misplacement
And gathered in a pile
The size of
A Beebee–
You, the smoking
Chopsticks,
Scissoring friction,
At speeds unattainable
By most–
Desolation, spinning at a rack,
Bobbin of the sometimes many,
Feasted on by barracuda;
Littered coins on busy
Streets–
I the raven
Caw at heady dawn,
Flagrant in mocking despair;
The spooning man questions
The source
Of grey gimlets–
Open my gullet
And pour–
The miser is pinioned to the bedpost;
Take his hand
From out the barber’s laughing comb,
Take his lids upon the glass
Of time,
And slither back to the meeting place.
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Wow! Great poem.
Thanks for letting me know. 😎
Metaphors are cleverly placed into the reader's field of perception. I would almost say thrust there, achieved by such an economic selection of words, short lines .. The raven, cawing after, is a stark image and quite the persona for the speaker. I like the way the stanzas suggest some progression over time.
Thank you for your in depth reading. 😎