SELECTED POETRY OF THE DINING ROOM
bound in dusty plush and gilded silence
Every piece of furniture was indeed
vaguely aware that it was something dead
and might be just posing as something quite dead
and so it did
as it has been so well understood
by the waxing moon itself.
Each cupboard shelf to be cherished
Each chair declaring ‘My life and glosses are welcomed’
tried to make sense out of good fortune
they stood in a circle rounding the square table
being acquired as a set
they knew each other to be rivals
but could they be friends
in such a fraud
when the minute hands of the popular imagination were needed
for nearly photographic resurrection?
No comments:
Post a Comment