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thesis statement
by Emily Tongtapping my forehead. pencil tip to
forehead. certain that the answers
are there,
between the lines (pardon the metaphor, but
i'm trying to be more
interesting) since when do we have to sell
ourselves?
i look to the window. see
the orange dahlias dying,
dying in the window. tap. tap.
bring my focus back
to the page
to reality. is this reality? if it is
i'd rather not. i prefer my dahlias alive.
but living or dying seems
besides the point. what is this point?
i thought that was obvious. 09/26/2008 Posted on 10/22/2008
Copyright © 2024 Emily Tong
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 10/22/08 at 03:47 AM I feel like I haven't read your stuff in a long time. If that's true, it's a shame. I love the way this thing moves, especially with the voice. |
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