Treasure Island

Charles Simic

(9 May 1938)

Read Your Fate


A world's disappearing.
Little street,
You were too narrow,
Too much in the shade already.

You had only one dog,
One lone child.
You hid your biggest mirror,
Your undressed lovers.

Someone carted them off
In an open truck.
They were still naked, travelling
On their sofa

Over a darkening plain,
Some unknown Kansas or Nebraska
With a storm brewing.
The woman opening a red umbrella

In the truck. The boy
And the dog running after them,
As if after a rooster
With its head chopped off.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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  • Erhard Hans Josef Lang (8/15/2006 11:58:00 PM)

    Exactly the way how fate comes stepping into one's life - catching one totally unawares. It's but after things have happened - if not only after reading this good piece of yours - that one starts reading one's fate. (Report) Reply

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