"wickerwork" poems
Oh, but it is *****
--this little filling station,
oil-soaked, oil-permeated
to a disturbing, over-all
black translucency.
Be careful with that match!
Father wears a *****
oil-soaked monkey suit
that cuts him under the arms,
and several quick and saucy
and greasy sons assist him
(it's a family filling station),
all quite thoroughly *****
Do they live in the station?
It has a cement porch
behind the pumps, and on it
a set of crushed and grease-
impregnated wickerwork;
on the wicker sofa
a ***** dog, quite comfy.
Some comic books provide
the only note of color-
of certain color. They lie
upon a big dim doily
draping a taboret
(part of the set), beside
a big hirsute begonia.
Why the extraneous plant?
Why the taboret?
Why, oh why, the doily?
(Embroidered in daisy stitch
with marguerites, I think,
and heavy with gray crochet.)
Somebody embroidered the doily.
Somebody waters the plant,
or oils it, maybe. Somebody
arranges the rows of cans
so that they softly say:
ESSO--SO--SO--SO
to high-strung automobiles.
Somebody loves us all.
3.8k
The young man he had wandered many a mile and more
Cross foreign lands and countless seas, to reach a distant shore
Driven by the hope's he held implanted as they'd been
Deep within the wickerwork of life's eternal dream
Though warm of flesh the heart was cold, no love had 'ere he known
And look he must for one sweet maid to melt his heart of stone
To feel upon his fevered brow the softness of her touch
The closeness of her being near, his cry for love too much
And to an isle he came at last, a jewel upon the sea
And landed on its glittered sands of sparkling diamante
He wandered through a forest, each leaf of emerald shone
And waterfalls of crystal gleam, reflections of he alone
And then, a vision seen, a pearl so bright and full of fire
That took the shape of maidenhood, and filled his heart's desire
Of golden hair and amber lips that parted with a smile
And beckoned come you hither and lie with me a while
He knelt before the maiden and to her heart be sworn
To worship at her alter, and kneel before her throne
She looked upon her suitor, her smile had all but gone
For 'ere his young heart melted, the maiden turned to stone
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 9:55 AM UTC