Dress of feathers

Dress of feathers

The lights of the street at night blind me
And my reflection is blurry,
As if I'm looking down the lake.
My eyes round and brown,
Like ancient coins covered with soil.
I'm wearing a dress made of feathers,
It covers up all imperfections
And screams Queen to every side,
While the parade becomes longer and louder.
Bam, bam - you hear the cymbals go.
Look at the jewels and the elephants,
Almost like a triumph you've admired
In one of those old films.
I wish you could see it:
This is what you've made -
My feathers shine like emeralds.

Remember when I was two? - I was clinging to you,
As if you were made of milk and cookies,
Of made up stories and everything nice,
But you weren't - you were made
Of human flesh and strange habits.
So I couldn't put you in a box,
Couldn't kick you in the guts –
I just wrapped myself with barb wire and went nuts.
I wish you'd have been a fascist –
Mussolini or a brute encaged in the zoo:
Then, oh then I had to have feelings for you.
Instead - there was nothing:
With a mother like Hitler,
You had to stay underground.
Sylvia wrote 'daddy' too,
Why do fathers chew hearts in two?

Today - I - have bit you in two
And dropped pieces of you in my sink,
In my toilet, in my make-up chair
Until there was nothing left
But feathers shining like emeralds.
'Bam, Bam' - you hear the cymbals go..





Poetry by FrancescaLuca
Read 684 times
Written on 2009-01-27 at 22:49

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