Poem of the Day
Yellow Striped Pajamas
By Shamsher Bahadur Singh
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
I descend on Holborn's escalator
watching my wives pass by on the opposite side,
smiling, waving at me; they shout in Swedish,
At the next table
a woman in patent shoes,
blue summer shift
This pair of pants has four pockets.
It can be seen how lovely they all are
carrying their duty-free cargo and passing
Under the weather would put one
just about left of the cirrus and right of
the objective correlative,
Dürer’s fame meant he could sometimes pay with
his own woodcut prints and chalk drawings.
This time, however, borax was partial payment for
Cheapest gas for miles around.
One VW bug, two pickups & a 4x4
nudge for position,
First, pick up chicken, rock back
& forth, back & forth, then set down.
In my arms, lilacs like a former lover—
no heartbeat, no elevator.
The garden pantomimes its tactics. Now
The truth is none of our business.
Our adolescent eye-at-the-keyhole rooting
In a sweetheart’s soiled linen for a clue
Maybe the moon is made of ice, not cheese,
And that's why it's so frightening.