It's been a long time since I've written poetry, and even longer than I can remember that I've stood in front of people and read what I'd written.I'm fortunate to be a part of an amazing group of writers and poets who accept and don't judge, encourage and dissect (without leaving a corpse behind!)
I'm grateful to the wonderfully talented Bobby Salvin, award-winning poet, author and artist for inviting me to join this year's writing group. Without this group of interested and cool people, it's unlikely 'Parade Black' would've been dislodged from my brain, while I was tightening my laces last week. Thank you!
Parade Black
The shoes lasted
longer than the job.
The interview outfit
still hangs unworn-
The good clothes
carefully saved for later.
The trappings and
plumage you present
Like the good silver
and the China plates
Only dusted off for
Easter
And awkward internet
dates.
The hesitant smile
The captured bird
Fluttering madly in
its bony cage
The
steady gaze
The
confident gait
The
sway of self
And
firm handshake.
Trotted out twice a
year to caper and perform
Then carefully hung
back on its hook
Because that is not
your norm.
The rictus and
unblinking eyes,
Which punch-clock
cruelly victimized
The creative heart,
the fairy wing
Crushed by a nametag
on a string.
The crawling commute
The daily pressure
To conform, fit in, be
timely and grin,
Grin,
GRIN—
No matter the strain
and hopeless pain
Of a desperate
creature circling the drain,
The foundering horse
in unceasing rain
For one who dared go
against the grain.
The shoes lasted
longer than the job.
True, they’re not
new,
The leather’s cracked,
The sole’s worn through,
But they fit more
comfortably
Than proper jobs do.
And the interview
pants, worn sparingly
At gatherings with
friends and family,
Not for those you’d
hoped to impress
Are fitting in a
little better
As you are
Loosed of unwelcome fetters.
Suzanne A. Marsden
© September 28th,
2015
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