Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #47
Tonight's Masked Man
by Belinda Roddie
Tonight's masked man was smoking tangerine
cigarettes and eating soup, his face warm
and oily from the lamps carrying the
aromas of rosemary and garlic.
As he lifted a strand of beads dangling
from his left brow, he stirred his spoon around
the bowl and made green tidal waves in the
confines of black porcelain. The waitress
could not stop staring at the strange array
of yarns and feathers lining his jawbone
and golden wasp cloth covering the spots
where stuff hotter than grease spat vitriol
across his cheeks and nose. He never would
remove the cowl. But to the girl, he should.
by Belinda Roddie
Tonight's masked man was smoking tangerine
cigarettes and eating soup, his face warm
and oily from the lamps carrying the
aromas of rosemary and garlic.
As he lifted a strand of beads dangling
from his left brow, he stirred his spoon around
the bowl and made green tidal waves in the
confines of black porcelain. The waitress
could not stop staring at the strange array
of yarns and feathers lining his jawbone
and golden wasp cloth covering the spots
where stuff hotter than grease spat vitriol
across his cheeks and nose. He never would
remove the cowl. But to the girl, he should.
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