Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Zelda (Poem 113)

those musical twilights 
the indigo wash formed 
limp gusts of gloom
long flowing satin covers
disintegrated into 
black lace and pale hours 
a cataract on the floor
under the sombre 
ironic golden halo 
lank contemporaneous 
silhouettes twisted and 
tore off short leaves 
of youngness
drunk as debutantes 
the cosmos 
smelted into the 
fashionable incompetence
and nebular significance
of serious people 
fervently impassive
huddling and twinkling 
by moonlight

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six


My respects to Zelda Fitzgerald, author of Save Me the Waltz (her only novel). From a few paragraphs of her book, I created a short erasure, which evolved into this poem.