Books
Poetry/Lyrics
Essays
The Art Preview
The saffron air thick and warm,
filled with curls of energy,
the people,
nodding, winking, swimming,
around me,
the balloon bobbing in the ornate chamber.
They talk a run in babbles like glass marbles in the mouth.
Pretty, hair-scented conversation
of who, and names and where.
The females display.
The males state, and stare.
My smooth left fingertips touch the icy wine glass.
I lift it to my lips and sip some dense ruby bitterness.
The art on the walls was good.
I can't recall much, but more
than the people,
those soft barriers that bounced me
and pressed my soft rubber flesh
as I remained silent.
|
