Today's poem is by Elizabyth Hiscox

A Poem with Three Lines from One Night in Portland

While others of fine wine claimed to be experts
I convinced them all I had invented air, climbing through a window
in the center of the room that no one knew was there,
as no one sees the mime holding the banana until it is peeled.
Who tripped the wires, the wires every one!
The cry went out from widening eyes, lubricated uvulas,
as I emerged into the future an acrobatic witness.
And the fireplace warped the light, Debussy on low
caused boredom in perfectly lively jute rugs,
plants filled with spiders, glassware brimmed olive on olive on stick.
Someone was late or not coming after all,
politics began lolling a tongue over an end table.
And the merriment erupted at midnight into dark,
small doses of something that raised voices, required salt,
banging at doors and smashing windows
some didn't even know were there to be broken.

Copyright © 2017 Elizabyth Hiscox All rights reserved
from Reassurance in Negative Space
Word Galaxy Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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