Poem of the Day
Yellow Striped Pajamas
By Shamsher Bahadur Singh
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
Not the abrupt way, frozen
In the one glance of a painter’s frame,
Christ in the doorway pointing, Matthew’s face
Spirit and form; to every soul its shell;
Sounds their instruments—flute, double bass,
Trumpet, each instrument its plush-lined case,
That summer I learned Biblical Hebrew
with Christian women heaving themselves
toward ministry one brick building at a time.
As a girl, that’s how you made it
to first base. You didn’t kiss,
you were kissed.
Morning walking is like a hospital room
The getting up and feeling sorry for sleep
Putting my fat body into a cab and going to the hospital
When I hear sweet songs I think of you
I don’t know why, but I do
When I hear sweet songs I think of you
I am sorry I let you down
I was writing this poem
In the middle of everything
Today when I was walking
I had a man tell me as he passed
That I was a white bitch (he was white)
It’s a lonely world
Hi everybody
It’s Dorothea, Dorothea Lasky
There’s a kind of transformation
That can happen on any day