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Open Poetry #49
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Susan in the Soviet Union
| Open Poetry #49 |
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Susan in the Soviet Union |
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Daddy Goose38 Member
since 2010-09-04
Posts 430obama's a rice paper tiger |
Susan in the Soviet Union I am in the Soviet Union. It is afternoon. I am down and out, no place to live, wandering the streets. I come to a house and knock. A couple opents, inviting me to come inside. After I tell them I have no place to live, The wife says they have a room where I can stay. I tease the husband, asking him if he is a true Soviet man? He just laughs. The wife leads me down a hall Which opens into a narrower inner hall And which opens into an even narrower inner hall Which dead ends in a little room. She says: This is your room ... She says her name is Susan. The room exudes comfort and warmth. It is cozy and secure, Insulated safely by the inner and outer walls From the whirley burley world outside. I tell her that, yes, I am very tired out from the trip. She guides me to the bed And I, greatfully collapse into it. I lay my head into the weirdest pillow I have ever seen. It is a strange shape, for one thing. With a start, I realize the pillow is really Susan. Susan is a very tall and lush amazon. My arms are full of her generous, lavish dementions, My heart is full of her. Her proportions and her breasts Overflowing with welcome and with warmth. Then she turns in to a pillow Then back into Susan, then back into a pillow. I've never felt such a strange pillow. I distinctly hear her koos and sighs. So I can't tell which is which, or maybe both of them are her? ... She tells me she can not have children, now. I tell her it doesn't matter to me if she could be a grandmother; She is full of love and full of life. She wants to show me something, So we go out onto the sidewalk Where another version of myself Is listening to America's A Horse With no Mane on a cassette, Because he, too, has no place to live. Then we step inside the building And she converses rapidly in Russian With a Soviet official. But what, I wonder ... What about her husband? ... You don't know how lucky you are, boy The Beatles Jaime |
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devina Member Elite
since 1999-10-28
Posts 3539Cali |
Really great prose-ey feel here, Jaime! "Then she turns in to a pillow Then back into Susan, then back into a pillow." ~soft capture, the small stuff, writ so well.  ~d "..But a tyrant spell has bound me, |
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2islander2 Member Ascendant
since 2008-03-12
Posts 6825by the sea |
smiles, take care of the husband, I loved my reading and "a horse with no name" is such a great song, thanks for the adventure in soviet union, yann |
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