This sonnet is a pretty dorm room
Outside, the clean distinct Gloucester Road
Full of white walls, walls painted with the right (optic) white:
Kensington, London city meets country-cosy-english life.
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Inside, a drawn curtain,
dimly lighted , far from dark,
the washbasin displaying messy tea bags
oozing yellowish liquids.
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Fellows – one at a time – showing their distinct
(or are they similar?)
reflections walking along the mirror,
coming and going;
while music reflects their distinct-similar mood:
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, for going piano,
Anni di Franco, for the digital accoustic approach,
Serge Gainsbourg, for the ones that like it frog.
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Nothing sordid, on the contrary:
everything nice, everything polite,
- “We’ll meet again”
Sometime,
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How come casual sex becomes the best sex?
Even, at odd times, the best ever sex.
Why sex should be so charged with meaning,
so full of best intentions, of great expectations, so complex,
that discharging it from meaning to the point of being “meaningless”
makes it perfect, sublime.
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No wonder you’ll meet again in public, with no expectations whatsoever,
just a couple of drinks in the regular pub.
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Archivado en: English Studies, Littera, london, Music, Personal, Poetry Etiquetado: | anni di franco, dorms, ellison, joyce, kensington, Littera, london, nick cave, Poetry, serge gainsbourg, ulisses, yha
