My order was wrong,
then right,
then wrong again.
The waiters were men,
then women,
then men.
You were angry with me,
then not;
then you weren't you, or at least,
didn't seem to be.
An alchemist came and turned the soup to stone,
the stone to a poem,
together to alone,
despite all assurances printed on the menu card.
Lunch for 2.
Dinner for 4.
In your hand an apple,
then nothing; then a core.
I said, "My love...my love...my love...my love...."
as I dug with my fingers all the way through the world,
to find a hard queen, a woman dissolved
in your eye looking back saying, "Now what, girl?"
_______
For "Play It Again, Toads" at The Imaginary Garden. I was inspired by the image at top, which is by my dear friend Daryl Edelstein, and also by the image below, which was taken by Karin Gustafson.
WoW! Fantastic write. I like the alternating "menu", and the search, which seems to go on forever...I know that feeling!
ReplyDeleteThere is something of new and deja vu simultaneously.. the endless loop and yet that anchor.. only a gaze can give.
ReplyDeleteOh, it's good to be back and reading your poetry. Wow, this line really got to me: "as I dug with my fingers all the way through the world," That's beautiful as was this entire poem. I also love the quote by Marina Tsvetaeva. It made me smile and laugh!
ReplyDeleteThis is just incredibly cool and smart. Love this, Shay.
ReplyDeleteYou hit just the same surreal note as that line of clocks--reality that is so instantly changed and ramified by every sort of shift that it becomes unreal. And you are totally correct about the musical accompaniment--as wild and discordant as the rush of the poem.
ReplyDeleteI like this very much.
ReplyDeleteShoots, you are GOOD
ReplyDelete"An alchemist came and turned the soup to stone,
the stone to a poem,
together to alone,
despite all assurances printed on the menu card.
Lunch for 2.
Dinner for 4.
In your hand an apple,
then nothing; then a core."
this felt like a nightmarish sort of dream - rather like Alice in Wonderland. Wonderful!!
ReplyDeleteThe synchronicity of this clicks, and stings.
ReplyDeleteLove this bit best:
"An alchemist came and turned the soup to stone,
the stone to a poem,
together to alone"
like all the previous comments stated, this took me for a journey much like a dream where there are a lot of scenarios all juxtaposed. that is how we dream isn't it?
ReplyDeletegracias for the journey
Fantastic! Clever and salty and sweet. A delightful read. I always, always read your work and love it but seldom comment. I am here and taking in what you create and appreciating it always, even though I don't always tell you. Thanks for being who you are and sharing your self.
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like a dreamscape, surreal, Alice-in-Wonderlandish and just enough hint of the dark side.
ReplyDeleteLunch for 2.
ReplyDeleteDinner for 4.
In your hand an apple,
then nothing; then a core.
Love the rhythm and rhyme of this stanza!
Pat
Critter Alley