Plaster Of Paris
D Dónall Dempsey
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Plastered in Paris
after more than ' a little tipple'
you topple
off your high heels
stumble against a wall
like a woman shot by firing squad
losing the head
losing the thread
you crack your skull
against an ornate edifice
knocking a piece
of plaster off.
You stick it
in your purse.
'God...that hurts! '
Now it sits
upon your desk
a memento to
make you smile.
'Plaster of Paris! '
you laugh when someone asks
and pour yourself
another.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş