Thursday, October 4, 2012

The Judgment Of Paris



Over the chest-high cinderblock border wall the laundry line sags with tops and towels.


In this city yard relic with rural, decrepit boughs waist-heavy with tits of green limes

unbred women unrhythmically ill-choose words, convey nothing but craving and belch.


This is the watcher view.  In my hauteur, I am unwitnessed and splendid.


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6 comments:

  1. This poem captures the irony of perception: The unsettling sameness beyond self-absorption ..... This begs to be read over and again.....

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  2. Rick,

    Thank you for your readership! It gets lonely here by the wall simply observing.

    TF

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  3. Trulyfool: "It gets lonely here by the wall."
    Especially if it's a chest-high cinderblock border wall. :-)

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  4. Berowne,

    I've thought of heaving myself up using arm strength, but I have the hernia to worry about. Maybe after the doctor heals me?

    Trulyfool

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  5. I hope I convey more than a crave and a belch...tits of green limes always help...

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