Late to the Party
“Only connect!” he said, and in one inspired moment
she inventories her life, her melancholy connections,
her splintered fragmented rent-asunder day-to-day.
She lives her prose. She eats and drinks her prose.
Her prose keeps the heat on, the lights on, gas in the car,
roof over head, you know. You know.
Her passion? Her passion’s been hiding out a long time --
biding its time, as the minutes days years drop away
almost without notice, like water shaken from an umbrella
by a woman arriving late to a party.
“Only connect!” he said, and now she’s late to the party,
a little soggy and disheveled, and wondering how long she’ll have to stay.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Creative Writing: April Verse #2
Well, I'm honoring National Poetry Month quietly after all. A mere two weeks after I wrote my first April poem, I've written my second. Thank goodness I had a little E.M. Forster to inspire me today.