An invitation to lunch at Indian
Brothers is not a test, ‘tho perhaps
displaced in grey spatial reality
and yet conceived in an effortless
expression of guileless spontaneity,
a shopping-spree’s post-scripting
the parameters fall into place, yes,
can see it making sense, vicinity,
opportunity, correct time and space
plus happy memories – flavours
to linger spice-like on palates lightly
sated, aiding romantic intrigue
but it’s an impasse already aweigh
in oblique contiguity – a crock-pot
of slow-baking blade steak waits
without trust of reprieve; a case
where to be or not to be makes
the right choice anathema
© 26 October 2011, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment