Lost in a marketplace a glint shining in an eyeball and captured in a cleaver cutting bone he was alone.
Just something I scrawled on a piece of paper sometime in the last few months, a verbal doodle.
I liked this doodle quite a bit. Sort, imagine poem that can fit easily in the small compartments of my mind are always pleasing to read. I've noticed that the "marketplace" finds its way into your work often.
Nice little observation, I bet there's a memory that goes with that. It reminds me of when I was in Bangkok and I wandered, lost, into Chinatown and walked amongst the markets there. Never before had I felt so surrounded and yet so alone, out of place. It was a weirdly enjoyable experience, being inside and outside of something at the same time. Thanks for evoking that memory. It's a good one
It's a wonder, surely, how sometimes the shortest poems have the heaviest impact, such as this one does. How the preceding lines serve as a setting for that most plain and aching final line.
Succinct, yet powerful. A doodle to keep.
Thanks for the comments! Comedian: I think the marketplace idea comes from an Old English poem I studied once (can't remember where it's from exactly), which likened our lives to swallows (sparrows) that fly through the marketplace. Yes, I like short and very short poems, particularly now. Hopefully you'll catch a glimpse of something as I flit by. Flying tomorrow across the ocean. See you all after I arrive, but my words will stay here for now though. I'm making plane noises with my mouth and lifting up my hand from the table. If you can't hear, listen more closely. Computer and internet going byebye now. (waving my hand)
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