I Called Z Passably Pretty
poem
And she was unhappy about it.
I am either pretty, or beautiful, your choice.
But you’ve always called me beautiful,
And so, in the sanctity of us,
I was always beautiful. What’s changed?
Or are you fucking with me, playing,
Always playing, but with an edge, sometimes
Too sharp. Read your poems
To me, mine to you. Think of us in a dark
Room, me slowly unbuttoning my shirt,
You’re on fire, that should do it.
Appearing passably shallow, but actually very deep. There’s a lot to ponder…
I spent time at the end, in contemplation of the facile answer.
does that make sense?
cheers,
Jim
Jim, thanks for commenting. two old lovers clashing verbally. Swep
Phew! I’ve come over all queer (or are we allowed to say that now? )
Yes, there is a sort of dual going on. Words bandied about as double edged swords, passive aggression… then the last lines that amply demonstrate the white hot heat that was.
Alison x
Alison, you penetrate the poem. yes, white-hot heat, and she’s such a beautiful girl.
you never disappoint with your remarks. Swep
I found reading it aloud gave me the sense of the interchange in the poem; and it is word fencing, or is that kindling? Before the ignition? A very sassy poem – simply good Swep.
Dodge.
Dodgem, i’m pleased you liked the poem, it’s one i favor among all of mine. Swep