Is this sought sea dream of the Arctic fox? The green below the circles
of the white, above her eyes? On Formica
tables where the woman smocks beneath
glass borders of their vacant smiles, they pass
by windows formulating styles,
that last year's ermine seasons elongate
in memory still into instants: they teach not
each others' known and bland apologies
to her at least, below the shadow
of a fractured lover's new repair.
It is not the way of things, apologies
are miles contracting and expending
not for her, who sought no marriage gladly.
Still the glass eyed lady by the Formica
drinks milkshakes and remembers when the glass was fit,
to view her, now it has become too late…
but apathy is not another's mirror,
if her sea-vair eyes not yet the face of hate.
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I know a lady like this. Her face will never show hate. Thought-provoking. *
Echoing Paust - this is very thought provoking. *
"apologies are miles contracting and expending..."
**
Thanks,, folks. This poem is one that for a while I actually paid scant notice to. I was drying out in a friend's house and dictated it to him on the spot in about five minutes purely for something to do to take my mind off alcohol withdrawal. He emailed it to me and I revised it very rapidly and afterwards forgot it. I considered it a too-short throwaway with a decent title. Actually, I now think it is a very good poem, but I still think it's too short. I think I'd ruin it, though, if I made it longer, so it's staying as it is.
It's a great mix of the archaic style with the more contemporary. It's a painting as a poem.
Funny you should say that, Samuel. When I linked to this on Twitter, I posted along with it a Picasso Cubist painting of a pensive woman who looked as if she were in a café or s bar.
Guess I was right, heh. I can also see a b/w photo accompanying it.
I always post pictures to the Twitter links of my poems, but the Picasso was one of the best suited to the poem.