Hello Christina,
I enjoyed this piece very much. It´s humorous and witty and simple enough for a simpleton like me to follow without tripping over his own intellect - have I ever mentioned that I wear my brain down-gyved like Hamlet´s breeches? Even so there was one line that puzzled me a little (yeah, right, only one) It was line 3. So just one year ago the `I´ in the poem thought their jeans were too large, and now they´re too small? Have I got it right? It seems an unnecessary complication in the narrative.
Best wishes, Mike
--- Alkuperäinen viesti ---
Revenge
Your waist is an ever-tightening tourniquet
around the rolls of my sins.
Last year I thought you'd fall and bought your smaller twin.
Did I grow or did you shrink with every mouthful?
Poor denim: abused by Mars bars,
stretched to breaking point by chips, profriteroles,
saucy Italian concoctions. Sad thread:
doomed to snap at the seams
while your sympathetic zip traps my flesh
in its teeth.
christina fletcher
|