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More poems by Charles SimicCharles Simic | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Charles SimicBooks by Charles Simic

The Something

Charles Simic

Here come my night thoughts
On crutches,
Returning from studying the heavens.
What they thought about
Stayed the same,
Stayed immense and incomprehensible.

My mother and father smile at each other
Knowingly above the mantel.
The cat sleeps on, the dog
Growls in his sleep.
The stove is cold and so is the bed.

Now there are only these crutches
To contend with.
Go ahead and laugh, while I raise one
With difficulty,
Swaying on the front porch,
While pointing at something
In the gray distance.

You see nothing, eh?
Neither do I, Mr. Milkman.
I better hit you once or twice over the head
With this fine old prop,
So you don't go off muttering

I saw something!

Added: 24 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 17 Aug 2017 5:35 AM | Viewed: 7263 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/417/ | Viewed on 17 August 2017.
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