Off Topic: Today’s Verse 83

cantinawall2

I see you in the looking glass,
your detachment white as dinner napkins,
your celebrations oft uncage
a bestiary of French silk.

I see him outside the window,
his allotment pale as a nascent reporter,
his introductions oft implode
a kettle drum of corduroy.

I look into the back of a butter knife,
my name engraved too soon,
a proclamation of fealty
to match every coat rack dumped in the Danube.

— yiqi 5 april 2015 11:13 am

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