The sun comes like a head
through last night's turtleneck.
A pigeon in the yard turns tail
and offers me a card. Any card.
From pillar to post, a pantomime
of damp, forgotten washing
on the washing line.
So, in the breeze:
the olé of a crimson towel.
the cancan of a ra ra skirt,
the monkey business of a shirt
pegged only by its sleeve,
of a handkerchief.
I drop the blind
but not before a company
of half a dozen hens
struts through the gate,
looks round the courtyard
for a contact lens.
Simon Armitage's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Cataract Operation by Simon Armitage )
- The Search For Peace, david kush
- Without It Questioned, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Bane of Attraction, Anthony Edmond John
- Wandersong, Neil Kennett
- Open Me Up, I'm Present, Luva Boy
- The Poem, Neil Kennett
- Arrival of Fall, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- I Want You Woman, Luva Boy
- Almost A White Horse, mary douglas
- The Tall Ride, Tirupathi Chandrupatla