![]() Folding LinensA Poem by AndroglossiaI felt the linen with my hands Smoother than the handwoven quilt proudly flexed on the wall But never as smooth as the banana leaves we used to cut out for sunshades Those handwoven images of people from the rugged lands not easy to travel over but Easy to scam out of 4Ps and pensioner's fund I am the queen of this house I wander about cleaning china cups and teapots, eating Bourbons drinking Dalmore and what not I was hoping to taste Tubâ out of every Bowmore I glut This morning I spat my french out my french window, pardon mine but I french everytime I realize I am within walls of walls of walls that are not even thatched at all Those banana leaves outside didn't even serve! Only a parasol of longing Hobnobs were not as good and Bourbons were nothing but drizzles in dayspring Maybe I'm a native heart caged in the concrete walls of modern times Maybe I am an old soul trapped in a causal loop longing for a time travel back to the times when poems were ode
© 2023 AndroglossiaAuthor's Note
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