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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

01 April, 2005

Empty Walls

These empty walls,
with a myriad memories
absorbed unwittingly,
now whitewashed
into inert submission
give me eager looks
like apprentice girls in a bordello
dressed up like vestal virgins.

[inspired by the forlorn image of good old Manisha in her new home, sitting and staring at blank walls, soon before moving in....]




Blogger khuto said...

"memories ... whitewashed into
inert submission" is an extremely
powerful image ... but don't
mind me, max but the eager looks
of virginal prostitutes seems a
rather forced extension (to me,
the reader, perhaps you had other
thoughts) - so it does no't
work for me. For me, if it had
ended at inert submission, it
would have been more powerful.

04 April, 2005 14:57  
Blogger Max Babi said...

Ah Khuto!
Tks a lot for the nice words.
Regarding the extension, the poem itself was terribly spontaneous.
My baby is born with six fingers,
shall I lop off one ?
I am happy.
Tks, and cheers!

06 April, 2005 23:02  

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