A final demand, cheerily scarlet,
not bloody-coloured at all.
This paper safely abandoned on the
seat beside the window.
Who would steal a debtor's identity?
Yellowing, spackled paper starting 'Dearest',
black ink faded to off-blue;
personal history lost to plastic oblivion
- bagged by a minimum wager.
What's the value in sentimental prose?
Rows and columns marching downward
not bloody-coloured at all.
Document cheaply abandoned by the
fool beside the window?
Why dice so with lucky opportunists?
Comments
Doeslittle | June 15, 2008 - 15:04
Nicely written - like 'final demand, cheerily scarlet' and the 'not bloody coloured at all' lines work well. Just perhaps this needs a little more depth or detail or more of you in it somewhere. A bit more of something. There, that was helpful wasn't it...
Ewan | June 15, 2008 - 15:11
Well... actually yes, it was. I can't put my finger on why it's not quite there either. Still.
By the way, check the post time on my comment on your latest, how spooky is that?
jennifer | June 17, 2008 - 10:45
I think the first verse is missing.
But like it anyway, especially the last line -
'Why dice so with lucky opportunists?'
This is why I am obsessive-compulsive about making sure I've got everything, not that I've been on a train for years....
Ewan | June 18, 2008 - 07:56
Sorry, Jen: do you mean it is missing a further verse at the beginning?