they put celine in charge, not me
all she cared about were her salads
she made one with watermelon and walnuts
professor wilson loved it
i mentioned that the bolsheviks
were approaching from the east
and he murmured please not now
and reached for his handkerchief
i turned to president martine
the candlelight flickered on his pince-nez
i said, the huns are approaching
from the west and he turned to celine
and complimented her again on the salad
i received word this evening
i told them that attila and trotsky
are coordinating their final offensive
i think, murmured professor wilson that celine has coordinated this dinner
beautifully if you don't care, i cried
why even put celine - or anybody - in charge
i went on but static
drowned out my words and their laughing replies
i rushed out the french window and stood at the balcony
the night was clear the city was quiet
it hadn't rained in six months
maybe, i thought they know
something i don't
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3 comments:
Timmy,
I am new here and decided to stay a while the moment I got into the rhythm of your work.
Your poetry and illustrations are magnificent. I like your sense of humor as well. Glad to have found your site.
Jenny
thanks, jenny. your kind words are
really appreciated
this is so kafkaesque... maybe they do....
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