Thursday, May 8, 2014
Each raindrop swoops at my face
pecks at the powder, the paint
My skin peels
I reach to hide myself, my fingers frantic
I must mask this stranger’s face.
What passersby must ponder at this crumbling statue:
a remnant of some ancient Other
a mummy unwrapping, a spawn of Hephaestos
in the rain.
My apologies for the delay, friends. It's been finals week (proctoring exams and helping 50 freshman not freak out is wonderfully full time work), and I'm taking my prelim exams - 3 8-hour-long tests - eek!- starting next week! I might be posting intermittently this month. .. also, the picture is one I took in Budapest, 2008, a few months before I wrote this poem.