“The Voyage Out” – The Poetry Marathon

The sun going down. Dusk saluted. As usual,

by instantaneous sparkle of light.The hours between,

were always difficult to kill.

Night.

The dance further tarnished by the dissipation. Certainly in the opinion of those who lay,

in the middle. With coffee beside them, and their cigarettes.

Unusually dull. The women, unusually dressed. The men unusually distributed,

an hour ago.

Either of the two – As every person.

Received, now engaged. Seemed hard, and prompted the caustic remark,

that fed. Their silence. He said.

Reminded

of the silence, in the house. When each held – a lump.

Stimulated by this. Liken some –

to canary birds, to swine, and to loathsome reptiles.

Curled round, decayed bodies of intermittent sounds.

Now – a throat clearing

a patter of conversation, just declared.

If you stand- when being mauled.

these comparisons, did not rouse

who, after a careful glance around the room

fixed eyes, upon native spears. So ingeniously arranged.

Their points clearly oblivious.

Whereupon, perceiving. That

mind completely blank. Fixed attention

more closely upon fellow creatures

too far from them to hear what they are saying.

Pleased. To construct little theories

from their gestures and appearance.