By the bar
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Description:
By the bar
I look over, & in those blurry eyes I cannot help but see an outline Of you, half-reclining, a tie, Across your stomach, your Perfectly manicured pocket Square beneath the terracotta Pate of head. It wasn’t you after all. It was Brown sofa, broken up, white vase, A decorative plate. Myopic—— that’s what you were Amongst Kampala nights spread out —— head-first, they fell towards The edge of lake —— —— and didn’t drown, didn’t die—— Dramatically fly themselves towards Reflective mists between moon borders, Smog-smudged as if by someone’s finger To ink-black waters. |
Submitted on 2018-09-18 12:15:30 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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I’ve been away far too long to bring out the yellow highlighter. Instead I’d rather say that everything looks like it is where it should be and if I ever come back here I’d definitely like to spend some time reading your thoughts. Very impressed | | Posted on 2018-10-11 00:00:00 | by deadndreaming | [ Reply to This ] | Your punctuation of this is pretty neat I think, it's got energy and urgency and grit and vigor because of the flow. I like the fragmentation of it and the abstract personification though I sense your apartment and my apartment would be quite different and in a sense that keeps me back but also makes the poem more about this narrator (after all, why should it be about me) so I dig and admire her, though can offer no literary comment on how she decorates the interior. You do have style 😊 | | Posted on 2018-09-19 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ] | |
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