Your mother would be proud, you know?
I told her all about it
and she’s written back a letter
said she’s on a train this weekend
gonna see you on a Sunday
with a bonnet and a bible
and she’ll take you out to dinner
while her gaze grabs you like fingers
and she’ll ask you all about her
when you’ll bring her ’round to meet
and you’ll say all the pretty things
you know she wants to hear
but all the while she’s just staring
her eyes grabbing you like fingers
and you’ll swear you think you’re finished
as she’ll catch another train
and just as soon as she came in
she’s out of town and life again
and she’s really very proud, you know?
The structure of this is sweet. There’s some literary name for it too. Chiasmus? I think.
But not that the word matters, it’s still a cool write, anyhow.
ah thanks.
I didn’t know there was a method to that little bit of shit… er, madness.