Showing posts with label July poem 2. Show all posts
Showing posts with label July poem 2. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Gilda grabbed her tail and said, "I don't know why Pete Seeger songs always make me cry, I'm really not a nostalgic or sentimental person."



It's irresponsible, I thought. How do I know which is which? Although it was true there was something those kids were unaware of, it was rude to say. We were all getting ruined, shiny-skinned.

Themes that seemed like sidetracks were actually central; embarrassment, childhood, failure, woozy-when-looking-in-the-mirror.

A shake across, I was never introduced properly, collecting medium-old objects and now stopped wondering, sometimes at least. Wear an apron, it looks constructed, if I weren't so, cramming over a stretch of grass. I couldn't tell them how excited I was in case they weren't excited too, but they were.