Print this page

Classical Allegory

by
December 2019, no. 417

Classical Allegory

by
December 2019, no. 417

To hell with what you think of me.
I’ve started drinking martinis at three.
I wake, I walk, I write, I sleep.
I snooze the alarm. I doze. I read.
Sometimes I listen to Carmen McRae
and pity you an inch. Not often.
Mostly I think about who’ll be next
now you’re gone. I stay out extravagantly late.
I buy myself a new coat, oysters, peonies.
I take long baths with a flute of champagne.
In bars, I sip whiskey straight. I pet
stray cats on stoops. When it’s hot
I laze around in French lingerie. Why not?
You’ve gone; the world hasn’t stopped.