Monday, September 14, 2009
After a long, tiring day, I spied a face in the bathroom wallpaper. It was near the shower, about a foot above the floor. Bushy eyebrows, arched, inquisitive; the blue-oily bead of an eye at least half insane, a mouth like an entrance to a cave. I had an idea: to take one square of toilet paper, press it to the wall, and trace the image. But the face didn’t show through. Very well. I returned with a piece of wax paper and a fine felt-tipped pen. To trace the image, I had to stretch out on the floor. I set to work. My hand was shaking ... the face refused to appear. I traced on. Clouds, perhaps? A doctor’s Rx? No, not even less. To salvage the image, I tried shading the brows. But black is not blue. I lifted the paper. The light fell through. I sat up, alone in the room.
“Destiny” added to Poems, Slightly Used.
In the Forum: when it comes to poetry, leave it to the prose.