Sunday, September 25, 2011

Your Sunday Poem

This from Billy Collin's collection, "Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes"

Man in Space

All you have to do is listen to the way a man
sometimes talks to his wife at a table of people
and notice how intent he is on making his point
even though her lower lip is beginning to quiver,

and you will know why the women in science
fiction movies who inhabit a planet of their own
are not pictured making a salad or reading a magazine
when the men from earth arrive in their rocket,

why they are always standing in a semicircle
with their arms folded, their bare legs set apart,
their breasts protected by hard metal disks.

1 comment:

M said...

Today got my property tax bill
A hard to swallow pill
One look at the amount
enough to make one ill

I knew it would arrive
I knew it would stun
I knew it was only the start
I knew it would break my heart

We are broken
We are done for
We are under their foot
Maybe now they will fix our roads, fix our drainage issues, bring us up to date with everywhere else.

Nah, i'm sure they will run out of money for that.
Sincerely, M