TEN MINUTES THAT DIDN'T SHAKE THE WORLD
TEN MINUTES THAT DIDN’T SHAKE THE WORLD
They seemed to talk only in metaphor or simile
And in what they call stream-of-consciousness -
These two young women in the café overheard yesterday -
About something boring to the point of unconsciousness;
And a small athlete called Richard something-or-other
Although they referred to him colloquially as Little Dick.
Maybe he was a friend-with-problems of their mother:
They spoke of age, alcohol, hormones, and bad technique.
Literary comparisons about throwing a raw sausage into a train tunnel backhand;
Jokes about stifling a yawn, making it look like open-mouth osculation;
Counting ceiling tiles in rhythm: ninety seven, ninety eight, ninety nine, change hands;
Oxymoron, bathos and pathos were all used in their discussion.
Diversions (like trying to recall the cost in the grocery store of small shrimp,
Or wondering if your contact lens has slipped or are you just sleepy-tired )
Didn’t help. They said Dick’s performance was badly timed and as well as rather limp
(Must remember to have the car’s weak battery charged before it’s retired.)
His sport may have been with aircraft in flight
But his free-fall diving ended when he pulled his string too soon,
She said, like a New Year’s rocket launched before midnight ,
He opened his champagne bottle at 8 am, before the speech at noon.
Perhaps a racehorse was involved, but as far as I could gather ,
A very small racehorse which burst away from the start line too early
And arrived at the first fence in a lather
And, she said, that’s not designed to make my toes curly.
They obviously found his performance confusing
And indeed, by all accounts rather supine.
However, his efforts seem to have been amusing
And at least it gave the girls literary opportunities to shine
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
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