Today's poem is by George David Clark
Lullaby with Bourbon
Behind you lie a hundred yards of satin
paid out in a thin line,
trailed around the house in slinky corkscrews,
tangled in the ficus
like a kite. Now your knees need rest, your eyelids.
Just sit a second,
Red Dress. Our guests are gone. Let's spool
the evening's ravel back
around you. I'll look to the dishes while you swirl
a splash of whiskey.
The hardest task for fantasists is clearly hosting realist
parties, pairing romance
with meatloaf on a budget of nothing. playing wit
to our fete-starved friends. Your grace could make
a hospital hospitable.
but while others convalesce. you worry at some flaw.
Even now you hold
the bourbon like a handrail. Red Dress, it's designed
to let you fall.
In the thrift of this room where the glitz is kitsch,
let's slide off
our seats like dolls. Tonight be big-eyed
in an invincibly fabulous outfit, one stylish
And if Saturday's not washed and pressed for us
let's let it come without that pomp
You're cordially invited to lie down the way
a caravan of camels
hauling bolts of velvet through the jostled night
lies down inside
their drivers' cadenced singing. You're invited
to be bright
and poor and young. Now invite me
to kiss you
with your eyes closed. Red, I can taste Kentucky
on your tongue.
Copyright © 2013 George David Clark All rights reserved
from The Greensboro Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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