Aug 18, 2008 18:04
A flag for her
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A sister in work giggles. Pretend, you have not
noticed. A gush of wind makes the flag proud and straight.
It is her independence day, celebrated
in this brothel. Shabby orient rooms. She will
not listen to the words for the country minister
has addressed. She has not watched the parade. Full of
power, poise and color. She looks at the cat with
the forenoon sun grabbed in its mouth. The feline drops
itself softly from the boundary wall, vanishes
in the oblivion. A lazy bird is paying
attention to the disheveled girls waiting to
try to get pretty in their business gears with
the strike of moon. The same one man has set feet on
several years ago. Another day. Country’s
independence, you know that, white slaves!
Though imagine it as a misty vista.
The evening clients see a flag in the red-light yard.
poem,
truth,
muse,
poetry,
passion,
poetica