Tuesday, 12 September 2017

Polaroid

Hotel pool in a polaroid 

pressed, 
submerged 

between fathoms of pages, depths 
of paperbacks to surface now 
on a grey noon
with sun bellies and beer glasses
stripy trunks and floral costumes -
odds say most of these package deal bathers
are now lounging in the cosmos.

In this white frame 
they still recline

and - out of the shot

a white wall and blood
red tubular bars

the paint peels 
to reveal scars of iron rust.

An olive-green lizard basks
and there’s no-one to tell

2 comments:

  1. In a mildly dyslexic moment, I read the title as Polaroid in a Hotel Pool. I guess that would be an entirely different poem :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Now that is a development. That's for reading, Kim.

      Delete

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