(Poem #193)The Face in the Toyota Suppose you see a face in a Toyota One day, and you fall in love with that face, And it is Her, and the world rushes by Like dust blown down a Montana street. And you fall upward into some deep hole, And you can't tell God from a grain of sand. And your life is changed, except that now you Overlook even more than you did before; And these ignored things come to bury you, And you are crushed, and your parents Can't help you anymore, and the woman in the Toyota Becomes a part of the world that you don't see. And now the grain of sand becomes sand again, And you stand on some mountain road weeping. |
The Face in the Toyota -- Robert Bly
Winter '84 -- Krisantha Sri Bhaggiyadatta
(Poem #192)Winter '84 I tell the corner store owner 'pretty cold out there' he says 'ain't what it used to be' 'oh', i say, 'why is that' innocently tensing wondering if coloured immigration has affected the seasons... 'they've been fooling around with the weather', he says. [his wife nods] 'ever since they sent a man to the moon it hasn't been right' oh, i say, breathing out intrigued 'yeah, i know what you mean' |