Contingency
A bit of a departure for me:
Over Coffee
Nothing happens because
he says everything
is contingent like
the steam from his cup
rising in random
intricate patters
between them as
they talked over coffee
almost forgetting to drink
their eyes meeting
through the steam
then she lowers
hers and regards
the surface of the
coffee in her cup
following the rise
of the steam upward
look at the steam
she says.
November 6, 2007
posted by Greg at 1:00 PM
2 Comments:
This is excellent. His arrogance and dismissiveness, her brief moment of pain, her subtle but pointed rebuttal (even if aimed only at herself). If I were teaching writing (as I did briefly a long time ago), I would use this poem as a way to get the students talking and thinking about how to reveal thoughts and emotions without whacking the reader over the head.
My dust-jacket quote: "Finely wrought."
Nice.
Thank you Jim! You grasped exactly what I was trying to convey. Very kind of you to comment so nicely.
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