ok
by Rene Foran
run your fingers through my...
whatever
i can't pretend
this doesn't turn me on
my house is empty
my soul burnt
toast with an image
of
that guy at Circle K
who sort of looks like
Ben Kingsley
but clearly, is not
yet I treat him as if…
Because maybe.
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This is brilliant.*
Thanks, Amanda
Good piece Rene. Especially like the long 3rd stanza and anchors the uncertainty in the poem- whatever, doesn't, empty, burnt, set of, is not, maybe. I like it.
Thank you, Sam
Ben Kingsly at Circle K. Why not. I saw Vonnegut hitch hiking in Arizona years ago. I should have picked him up.
Missed opportunity, Steve
Almost spoke to "Joseph Heller", with his family on the kite-shop deck at Nags Head many years ago, but the quote marks around his name bothered me. *
"i can't pretend
this doesn't turn me on"
Great ambiguity here.
*
*
Rene, you had me at,
run your fingers through my...
whatever
Brilliant.
*