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More poems by Weldon KeesWeldon Kees | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Weldon KeesBooks by Weldon Kees

Robinson

Weldon Kees

 
The dog stops barking after Robinson has gone.
His act is over. The world is a gray world,
Not without violence, and he kicks under the grand piano,
The nightmare chase well under way.

The mirror from Mexico, stuck to the wall,
Reflects nothing at all. The glass is black.
Robinson alone provides the image Robinsonian.

Which is all of the room--walls, curtains,
Shelves, bed, the tinted photograph of Robinson's first wife,
Rugs, vases panatelas in a humidor.
They would fill the room if Robinson came in.

The pages in the books are blank,
The books that Robinson has read. That is his favorite chair,
Or where the chair would be if Robinson were here.

All day the phone rings. It could be Robinson 
Calling. It never rings when he is here.

Outside, white buildings yellow in the sun.
Outside, the birds circle continuously
Where trees are actual and take no holiday.

Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 26 Apr 2018 5:25 PM | Viewed: 6524 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3089/ | Viewed on 26 April 2018.
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