Friday, February 14, 2014

5063. GUN-METAL GRAY AND NOTHING GETS DONE

GUN-METAL GRAY AND 
NOTHING GETS DONE
She's got eyes like she came from Ephesus and hips 
like the girl Shardonay : neither of which I knew personally 
but use here anyway. I play a dulcimer in my better dreams,
and she smiles back at me, or winks : a gun-metal gray 
and nothing gets done.
-
It's just like that, that's all : you run away from home
and steal a car to flee in, and only later realize it's
Dad's car you stole. It all comes back to you again,
the haunting and the remembering, the grim horror
of the recall. Might as well return it all.
-
She sings a madrigal in a see-through negligee.
I watch with glee, to wonder what she'll say; but
nothing comes out ungarbled and she's singing her
heart away  -  everyone's clapping and rollicking 
but me. God-damn, isn't that the way.
-
Nothing gets done, and gun-metal gray.
Nothing gets done, and gun-metal gray.

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