18 - Monday by Lacy D PhillipsI am deeply engaged in a study of an acorn collected from our parking lot with infinite pains to select the perfect specimen. I had the idea of affixing the shells to my favorite kitten heels, but they aren't strong enough to resist splitting. The broad women of the front office are broadcasting their personal lives in their own urban language. I don't understand much of what is said, but by the pitch, they're expounding on the world's favorite pastime the usual product of which is offspring. I spent an entire lunch hour surveying the oaks trying to lose myself in the shade, the wind wiping clean my memory of words. And I sketched my favorite of the twelve for no other reason than I had a pen to put to use and my brain had been numbed by inanity.
My return to the den of bullhorn voices is marked by the incoming call tone which I have pegged as a clean c sharp. I imagine this verse in that key at a tempo that matches the second hand, cruel in its precision. 07/17/2006 Posted on 07/17/2006 Copyright © 2025 Lacy D Phillips
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 07/18/06 at 02:26 AM Intelligent write - careful use of words which reveal what is happening around you, but in a discreet manner that makes this very interesting to read. I do not know what kitten heels are??? I quite like the last stanza with the "clean c sharp", and the "second hand, cruel in its precision" is quite brilliant. |
Posted by Vere Mantratriad on 07/19/06 at 05:30 AM Yes; careful, precise wording...you tell an interesting story. |
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