Saturday, March 19, 2016

After Reading Wallace Stevens

I talk as if I've never
met a stranger,
but only to strangers.
You treat me
as if I'm a stranger;
polite discourse
and a tidy smile.
I'm no stranger
to the well-mannered cut
of your courtesy
and distance.
I wonder,
would you touch my face
and see me if I stole
your eyes.

For Karin's prompt at Real Toads

17 comments:

Outlawyer said...

This is such a cool poem, Mz. Worth the price of admission to me as prompter. I love the quick close up at the end, as if a lens is being focused, screwed in- the sudden intimacy-- it all works so well and one also understands the intimacy that one, shut down on the home front, may feel with strangers in the more anonymous world. K.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is so stylish. I certainly hear your voice loud and clear.

Fireblossom said...

Wallace Stevens is Hedge's favorite, I think.

If you leave the third eye by itself, things could get really interesting.

C.C. said...

The voice in this is so crisp and that last line/question just cuts through everything!

Magaly Guerrero said...

That ending... wow. I want to see the faces and speaker and subjects when the words are said into the world.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

"I'm no stranger to the well-mannered cut of your courtesy".........as always, you nail it, superbly and succinctly.

Sioux said...

Your phrase "well-mannered cut of your courtesy" is quite cutting...

brudberg said...

That ending made me gasp... wonderful

rhymeswithbug.com said...

"I am no stranger" this says so much. This deserves a re-read, or two

kaykuala said...

Perhaps one needs to question oneself how far love can take with lots of communication or none. Thoughtful take MZ!

Hank

Stacy Lynn Mar said...

i love how curt and matter-of-fact the voice of narration in this.
as if the speaker just puts it all out there. she seems both bold and brave.

colleen said...

Love it. I just saw End of the Tour and wrote this last week on my 13 Thursday list: While I was sick, earlier this week, some kind of delirium set in and my brain started to loop around the name of the author David Foster Wallace. I was half asleep and couldn’t seem to remember all parts of the name or in the right order. Sometimes I could remember the last name, but not the first, or the middle name and not the last. It went on for too long. The following day Joe was telling me about a new meditation passage he was memorizing and about the repetition of a mantra, and I said, “Oh, that reminds me. I have a new mantra too. It’s “David Foster Wallace.”

colleen said...

Looks like I just got the name mixed up again!!

Margaret said...

I wrote to a poem of his as well - mine doesn't sound like his writing or is as clever as yours - but I'm glad to be introduced to a new poet. Just love this Garden :)

Jim said...

Intimacy wanted only by one.
..

Susie Clevenger said...

Love the snap in this one! Definitely your voice!

Gillena Cox said...

Luv the line with "the tidy smile" so profound

Much love...