Two Pairs Of Socks

POSTED IN contemporary poetry October 27, 2013

 

Two Pairs Of Socks

“Your poetry sucks.”

“What do you mean?”
her eyebrows knitting a sweater
and two pairs of socks.

“Your poetry section, it sucks.
Not enough for a good fire,
though god knows,
most of it should have been burned.”

“I don’t pick the books,
and who are you anyway?”

“Nobody,
you on the other hand must be the duster.”

Her hand moves toward a letter opener.
“I’m sorry” I said
bringing us back from the brink,
“I have these books I want”.

“Late charges” she says triumphantly,
“that will be ten dollars.”

“I don’t want to buy the library”

“You don’t get any more til you pay.”

Stomping them back to their shelves
I peel the label from the 1946 winner,
so the Pulitzer prize is now where it belongs,
a gold medallion on the Alden Nowlan.

Out the door, no books, just two pairs of socks.

 

 

 

 

Tom Hemeon