Unsigned Poem by Mark E Webster

The paper shortage of '52
Had everything to do
With the rise in popularity
Of tattooed body poetry.
Thus inscribed on a merchant's flank
Are the following words which must surely rank
As the most curious of their form:

'A toothless, half-shadowed man
Proffers bloody meat through a hole in the wall.
Metal rimmed wheels clack
On cobbled stone streets.
It's 1722 in Beijing.
1022 in Berlin.
Time's ribbon wraps itself around
The gift of the world.
Half submerged in a pool of milk,
A concubine islands her finest parts.
Goldfish orange pools.
Swallows cloud skies.
Buildings crumble
As old folk sip hot tea in waiting rooms.
At this moment,
Give or take a thousand years,
All desires cease.
Smiles and grimaces fall away.'

This rhymeless verse lies
Just beneath the skin.
No signature belies its origin.
The merchant lies in a glass topped case
A look of serenity upon his face.