11.09.11
Poetry: Robert Funge
At the Movies
If life were a movie mine would start near the end a series of flashbacks out of order discordant as a jigsaw puzzle thrown open on a glass table a collage of half blank phantom shapes each image showing nothing of the whole it would end before the end leaving you and I in the dark the credits rolling and all we’d hear is the music -- Previously published in Rattle |
Deception
Never to be deceived. What a dull life. Tell me lies. Praise my intellect before you tell me what you need. Just don't be honest. Truth sobers, and I like being drunk on possibilities. Don't tell me orchids won't grow in my garden of weeds. It's an illusion I could believe, like the girl of my dreams, in a dream, even when I know it's a dream. Truth corrupts the imagination, so lie to me. Tell me you accept what I do. Tell me I'm good. --- Previously published in Eclipse |
About the Author:
_Robert Funge was born and raised in San Francisco. A dead arm and the curveball ended his dream of a baseball career. Robert is the author of three books of poetry: The Lie the Lamb Knows, Daughter, and The Passage. He now resides on the San Francisco peninsula, in San Carlos.
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