Scribd
Upload
771 views

Montage

The poem describes a woman's morning routine of getting ready for the day after a weekend of leisurely indulgence. She pieces together memories from the night before and settles into the structure of another work week. As she gets dressed and has breakfast, she exudes an air of mystery and renewal, dissolving her form in subtle tones while remaining a jewel ensphered in mist.

Uploaded by

KeiKo
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
771 views

Montage

The poem describes a woman's morning routine of getting ready for the day after a weekend of leisurely indulgence. She pieces together memories from the night before and settles into the structure of another work week. As she gets dressed and has breakfast, she exudes an air of mystery and renewal, dissolving her form in subtle tones while remaining a jewel ensphered in mist.

Uploaded by

KeiKo
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
You are on page 1/ 2

MONTAGE

Ophelia dimalanta

Monday jolts and she bogs down, a ragbag

Splayed off at tangents. Windows

To the outside and flecks of faces

Spring the morning clear at her

To set her into her old dimensions.

Piece by piece she puts on eight o'clock;

Pillows and bedcovers in a tumble pat

Her in place. The clearest cutglass

Of grapefruit juice teetering on a silver

Tray for breakfast-in-bed exigencies

(Both for effect and effectivity)

Is for a fact but fictive in the mind

Which holds the fleeing moment longer,

Stalls the stupor of the previous spree,

Images of her beautiful in blank spaces

Wandering truantlike in private regions

Of the night, wisps of clouds jammed

In one wicked corner of sleep. She hoards

Them like a child at play, triumphantly

Pieces them into a single total perspective:

Splayed off tatters of Sunday, a dark

Undiscipline of clouds settled right

Into this alarming set-up environing

Her Monday-world, jolted suddenly

Into the teeth of everyday people

And cluttering sounds of slapdash.

She exudes it now becomingly

As she glides and putters about

By turns, spreads it as a scent

Ambiguously enwombing her, her form


Dissolved in semi-tones, nameless jewel

Durably ensphered in mist, constantly reborn,

Solid, whole in ever renewing shades.

You might also like