| Jonathan Berger's Poetry: Poem of the Day |
| HER GLASSES She says she hates her glasses. I say, �I love your glasses, but please take them off.� She says her shoes are too tight the color�s too light they don�t fit right. I coo and ah over the tan slingback mules but say, �If it don�t fit, get out of it.� She says her coat makes her hot. I agree, say �Me, too. I�ll hang it up.� And it goes on: her loathing her revulsion her disrespect of things that I hold dear is irksome and insulting and frustrating and I wish I could slap her down, around, throughout the town and tell her �Your clothes, your hair, your cosmetics are all wonderful. They are part of you. To shun them to shed them like a lizard does little good as they always return. And like a snake they�re hard to shake.� I want to say this. I try to say this. But then she starts talking about her worn/torn dress. And in a paralytic state of shock, serendipity and desire I shut up. |