White Vase

White Vase

Two figures on a sofa, side by side,
The stench of bitter almonds, smoke and sweat;
A man who ate no meat lies with his bride.

Fresh tulips and narcissi cast aside,
A white vase tipped; a chiffon dress splashed wet.
Two figures on a sofa, side by side.

The room is hushed, its spell defies the tide
Of history - no servants enter yet.
A man who could not paint lies with his bride.

Her spittle flecked with glass and cyanide,
Her buckskin pumps beneath the blue banquette.
Two figures on a sofa side by side.

The brimstone face grown slack and glassy-eyed,
Its shattered skull concealed in sillouette.
A man who blamed the world lies with his bride.

Outside, the spring has come while worlds collide.
Here, blood and water drip in grim duet.
Two figures on a sofa, side by side:
A man who ate no meat lies with his bride.


from A Glass Half Full (Hutchinson, 2002), copyright © Felix Dennis 2002, used by permission of the author and the publisher.

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