You are a simulacrum
Of what I believe you to be
And what is needed
But you are something
Other than this
You answer off-key.
Spike and near beer
Have bridged more gaps
Than one temporarily
I observe that there
Is gold in the ringlets
Of your hair
And must smell sweet.
Philosophy over alcohol
A brother bought from
The taxicab driver
And my mind jumps
At a grasshopper thought
Which is without relations.
(You talk as a girl should
Who is supposed to
Know nothing
But has made countless boys
Men.)
Still I can’t forbear
Taking you to look over
The pallid stretches
Of moonlight on the dark river
Of course we don’t care
For such things
But serves as a pretext.
I notice that you are
Placid as a dank pool
But there is a spark in you
I have put there.
And still when the night
Is over you will fade
For though in reality
You have your being
You are a creation of fancy
All the same.
(Norman MacLeod)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Night Poems, Brothers Poems, Philosophy Poems, Reality PoemsBased on Keywords: pretext, bridged, alcohol, temporarily, off-key, taxicab, simulacrum