Poetry | Free Verse

Glass Menagerie

from the backstage

Photo by Frenjamin Benklin on Unsplash

APPLAUSE — coveting
a set stage, but never the
other way round.

our foyer for the night
of grand escapades in play,
shall thus be — the apt fire-escape*.

but the BUBBLE — we
do not burst / so to call
slithering along gallant
dubious lines — assembled just fine.

¹You’ll go up, up on a broomstick … with seventeen gentlemen callers! You ugly — babbling old — witch!

two WORLDS / on a pompous
whim — I live.
a mother’s beating heart
to darn the ripped sail.

to that reason cogent,
the WORDS — we move,
anchoring the “hold” revered
to set free — one hapless soul.

²Why can’t you and your brother be normal people?

tonight, we must cleanse
the — STAINS — dark,
impeccable, beautiful stains.
we must stand tall, next to
the midget, who has it all.