reflexive: city exhibitions IV.
by Emily Tong
black smudged fingertips I am
one of the masses here the
mass of individuals:
the woman who is drowning
in herself (sunk into a white
shirt), pregnant women with their children,
self conscious students, the men
in corners playing chess and cards.
we police ourselves; one
enormous intake of breath
and then that leap into
the scrutinized questioning of
ourselves: home, love,
welcome, a bench, a
house, a common tongue.
Posted on 07/27/2011
Copyright © 2021 Emily Tong
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Samiah Haque on 07/27/11 at 05:07 PM|
a rich and luscious poem, quiet and hungry. it creates the most hungry question, and answers it silently. beautifully created.
|Posted by Richard Vince on 05/03/14 at 11:20 PM|
"we police ourselves" - we do indeed. some of us, at least. sometimes i want to shout or scream as an antidote to the silence, to the oppressive restraint, but i simply won't let myself. i'm so glad this is POTD because otherwise i wouldn't have found it. :)