Dinner

Sorry it's been so long since my last post, this is a short poem, but of all the little scribbles I've made over the last few weeks this is probably my favourite. The reason I think it works so well is the subtext. Now I was listening to this podcast today and to any aspiring writers particularly people who write genre fiction I highly recommend Writing Excuses. It's a very entertaining and informative show about how to write and about the experiences of three big time writers (although now I think it's four), but they mentioned a poem, "My Last Duchess". I'll provide a link, but this is a poem that also excels in creating a fascinating subtext.

It's an interesting conversation and its interesting how the two characters in the poem's musing on the painting of The Duchess are ultimately underlying the narrator of the poem's own insecurities about the woman he is with. In any case, I think you should give it a read and like all poems that usually means glancing over it pondering then looking at it again. I think that's another thing that even I need to get used to, how do you read a poem? Because I think the way we read nowdays is not too suited to poetry in the most pure sense.

Anyway, I digress. See if you can see what's really going on between these two over dinner.

Dinner

Amber light flickering
off the bone-white 
pale of her wrist


ghosts are more
present and more
sure the awkard
chink of knife and 
fork the traces of blood 
on her plump lips


the lonely togetherness
of the moon on 
the patio at the 
end as she whispers
"goodbye"