My jacket, warm, doesn’t fit at all. My hat too small and creased in the wrong place. Second-hand goods make good props I have heard…
Enter you. Dressed in verdigris and oh so tall! With the voice of a whales call. The air is your water as words flow around the submerged room.
Me: I think there’s food
You: Words are my food. From the present or antiquity. It’s all the same to me.
Me: I once met a poet. But he didn’t know it. Of course, I asked him to look in the mirror and to tell me what he could see. The answer was me.
You: He dresses like the crown prince of Asia and looks so good with the Poinsettia: Are you getting my meaning that of which I am gleaning?
Me: I don’t know I’m not sure. I would never wear a sword….
I can just imagine a night out with a poetess. She would see everything and I would see me everywhere.
Art, life, music…What did you think?