Monday, December 18, 2017

Gabriella Garofalo writes

Storms ‘n’ strawberries in the heat,
I’ll be melting -
Oh, look at her, the bride in a mirage
Of chiffon and silk,
Mauve now that I walk over it -
Look, shall my stare stay eternal
If I trample over hope and green?
God, are you a rebel or a colonial? Whatever,
I saw her amongst the eyes of beggars and winos,
Among wheel-chaired young and clouds rotting away,
I saw her hanging around with her henchman,
That rotten maverick June -
C’mon, c’mon now with fake sweet nothings,
C’mon with cheap smiles, here they come
Xeroxing their dna, here they come
Waiting for some little clones,
The nonchalant silos all in red -
I know, God, they breed, but, look,
The lizards, they know better and dart away -
I know, God, they breed, but, look,
The lady at the café, so sweet was her smile
Many years later they found out
Blind white bones deep down her cupboard -
‘You failed big time’, I told him,
‘So did you’ God smiled while mothers
Went shopping loaded with totes and kids -
Or were they comets feeding on useless targets?
Me? What that’s got to do with me?
What do you mean?
Look, have you forgot by any chance that peeping
Can look very innocent if need be?
Image result for peeping paintings
Peeping Beauty -- Isiavwe Ufuoma

No comments:

Post a Comment

Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?