'Before The Cake' and The Snarky Reader
By Lou Blodgett
At a steady pace down a long, beautiful hall.
(‘I was walking down the street’, then.)
Several wall lamp leagues mark the distance to nothing
(‘nothing’. Good subject.)
else but a gaggle of bright lavender about a tall, white bell.
Distinguished now from the rest, she separates
(Yolk from albumen. Thus, the ‘cake’. I think I follow…)
from the color grouped at the ballroom entrance; now a chapel.
(Wait. A gaggle of colorful sprites become a chapel?)
She walks toward, leaving the fishbowl conscious calmly,
(Tipsy, then. Wonder what was in that fishbowl.)
cleaving from the group to gather.
( [buzzer sound] Sorry, you can’t ‘gather’ what you’ve ‘cleaved from’. I’m finished with this crap.)
In taffeta, silk and lace. As perfect. Walking alone.
(But, I have to say. As perfect as what? A shoe? Can opener? Side-effect warning pamphlet? No wonder she walks alone.)
Then, strangers pass, most different in dress and situation.
(Sport mascots? I’m sorry I kept reading.)
Nods are exchanged. Nothing is said.
(I guess at least someone’s privy to what’s going on here...)