#33

Esme Shapiro
Ruined Interior by Suzanne Buffam
In the beginning was the world.
Then the new world.
Then the new world order,
 
which resembles the old one
doesn’t it? Its crumbling aqueducts.
Its trinkets and shingles.
 
Its pathways smothered in fog.
If all we’ve done is blink a bit
and touch things,
 
notice how dust describes
a tin can by not falling
where it sits—or how a red sleeve
 
glimpsed through curtains
mimics the tip of a whispering
tongue, was the whole day a waste
 
or can worth be conferred
on a less than epic urge? Bow-wow
says the doggie on page two.
 
Ahoy says the sailor.
Arise says the tired queen,
and face the highway,
 
the donut shops, and the boardwalk.
It rained today, and you can see perfect
inversions of streetlights
 
suspended in the drops on the window.
You can see the skyline
trying to hold up the sky.
 
Don’t tell me there’s another,
better place. Don’t tell me
there’s a sea
 
above our dreaming sea
and through the windows of heaven
the rains come down.
 
More art by Esme Shapiro here.
 
Recommended listening: 1234 – Feist
 
 
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s