Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 84.0: November 24th, 2008
Beside the Parlor
by Belinda Roddie
I never liked this room beside the parlor,
This tiny, insignificant space, all grays and yellows,
Always stinking of garlic for reasons I do not know –
There is nothing special in this room, only a table with
Coffee rings instead of coffee cups, a chair meant for
Leaning against, not sitting – the springs would serve as rough
Against a person – and a portrait of a Frenchman
Who is no Napoleon, no King Louis, just a man of
Thinning mustache and little worth, save for his smile,
Painted without the flash of teeth but with the
Implication of some knowledge hidden away from
Common people, people who tend to overlook the fellow’s
Eyes that seem to pierce the flesh itself –
Perhaps I’ll stay in here a little longer.
The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since November 24th, 2008.
by Belinda Roddie
I never liked this room beside the parlor,
This tiny, insignificant space, all grays and yellows,
Always stinking of garlic for reasons I do not know –
There is nothing special in this room, only a table with
Coffee rings instead of coffee cups, a chair meant for
Leaning against, not sitting – the springs would serve as rough
Against a person – and a portrait of a Frenchman
Who is no Napoleon, no King Louis, just a man of
Thinning mustache and little worth, save for his smile,
Painted without the flash of teeth but with the
Implication of some knowledge hidden away from
Common people, people who tend to overlook the fellow’s
Eyes that seem to pierce the flesh itself –
Perhaps I’ll stay in here a little longer.
The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since November 24th, 2008.
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