Tonight's Poet Corner: The System of Hierarchy
The System of Hierarchy
by Belinda Roddie
Upstairs, we hear the fizz of champagne,
the clattering of six-inch heels on wooden
floorboards. We keep to ourselves in
our downstairs apartment, sipping warm cider
for the sake of autumn, eating potato chips,
watching movies online, ignoring the party
going on in the loft above our heads.
It's a cork-popping, heart-stopping, body-rocking
night up there, apparently. Until we hear
the scream and splash, we don't know that
someone had the intent of jumping. The saltwater
bubbles only a little bit, like the hiss of carbonation,
and the man in white tails sinks into the oceanic
debris that carries him away from the carnival.
by Belinda Roddie
Upstairs, we hear the fizz of champagne,
the clattering of six-inch heels on wooden
floorboards. We keep to ourselves in
our downstairs apartment, sipping warm cider
for the sake of autumn, eating potato chips,
watching movies online, ignoring the party
going on in the loft above our heads.
It's a cork-popping, heart-stopping, body-rocking
night up there, apparently. Until we hear
the scream and splash, we don't know that
someone had the intent of jumping. The saltwater
bubbles only a little bit, like the hiss of carbonation,
and the man in white tails sinks into the oceanic
debris that carries him away from the carnival.
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