Monday, March 01, 2010

I wrote this one yesterday at fiction workshop
(directed by Mr Spurgeon Thompson)

Thirteen ways of looking at a silver spoon

A silver spoon would dive in a soup bowl

and in reverse dive out loaded

soup would never do the same to its pot.

What hand would mystify

this ritual of prudence?


Fast moving hands over a table,

dishes flying,

salads uplifted and surrendered

I never gave my silver spoon to

though everyone else gave theirs in.


In times when nothingness was valued,

at wars and major disasters,

Would you have lent me your silver spoon

for a sip of the rain water on the roof?

Or would you bend it for the wish well?


a boy and his father

pee together for sanitation

in their backyard planted with silver spoons


a silver spoon was digging

deep-deep-deep until it reached its tail

and died


Death visited me one day

dude, I protracted my silver spoon

She saw her face in the silver cavity distorted

“why the silver one?” I heard as she was being absorbed


Absorbents, disinfectants, pesticides

petrified at the sight of silver spoons,

especially the classic or baroque

– email with an answer -


Some pusillanimity is likely

when fighting the knight of silver spoons at nights

Beware! He might cut you in circles


The cycle of life

decoded by the hunter of golden dreams

sadly a cipher again

embargoed by the secret society

of SI.SPO.


Venus would feed her children everything

everything with silver spoons

each child had her name on the hollow surface

-except the poor boy-


If you ask me why I bought a silver spoon

I would go about saying that

bending it defies pitiful shows with forks


Roll a silver spoon down Mount Everest

and blame me for the silvery avalanche

pinning you down as you observe


Admit it mother,

without your silver spoon dancing its tango

your father would be mine

No comments:

Follow me fb