I remove the thin, see-through shawl
That protects my suit, cleaned and pressed,
And gently place the garments on my bed.
I’m no different from anyone:
I put on my pleated metaphors one leg at a time.
I buckle my literature at the waist.
I like starch on my collared similes for that crisp look.
I tighten my poetry by its knot, snug around my neck.
I polish my words, shining the grammar spots.
I slip on my double-breasted entendre
And head out for class.
At the end of the day, I’ll return home,
Slip on my slang and let my profanity hang out.
3 comments:
Okay English teachers, here's the poem for our subject. Enjoy.
I love the last line. We're such hypocrites. I also like how poetry is the noose-like necktie. Hopefully not because of this blog.
I read the snug knot of the poetry as a metaphor for the precision that the craft demands. I like that it lends itself to multiple interpretations. And, like Chris, I love that last line. Thanks for the tribute to our discipline, Brent. Enjoyed I did.
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