Poetry 2014 / Volume 45

Fly Ribbon — Vladimir Swirynsky

There must be people
who are fascinated
with fly ribbon,
who hand them as
ornaments or squeeze
the bottom portion into bottle tops
so they look like a bouquet of flowers.
The flies can’t resist
the red hot mangoes in the eye,
the slanted light of Buddha,
slow dancing with a
partner that wouldn’t let go.
On this hot summer day
I watch their light-fingered legs
twist in the bottleneck of futility,
unaware that they have landed
on the island of lost souls.
Resting in the easy chair
the minutes and hours have
become obedient children,
just out of reach a book
I’ve been wanting to read.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s