My mind is in the deep freeze wrapped in airtight plastic, and who would want my thoughts even glossed by hollandaise? I have left my face with the baby-sitter and come here sketched in eyebrow pencil, hesitant as a dress in basting stitches, to stand beside my husband - my name tag - and watch the shrimp pass by, boiled commas nodding at the edge of a crystal bowl. The accountant's wife splutters freckles between the pink-bowed lattice of her open-backed gown. Ambition, a pulled tendon, aches through conversations. And I, trying to make jelly-glass gestures into Dresden, am an extra, an appendix, my function organized out. Take me home, husband, and we'll make love on the oriental rug, laying a little ontology on another pattern stylized beyond reality. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEDANTIC LITERALIST by MARIANNE MOORE THE HOUSE OF DUST: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN THE CHANGED WOMAN by LOUISE BOGAN CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS MEMORY by HAYDEN CARRUTH A TIME TO DANCE by CECIL DAY LEWIS TO SEE THE STARS IN DAYLIGHT by JAMES GALVIN |