Friday, May 25, 2012

The Infants

A mass of old men gathered
Cradling infants
Some crying
Some sleeping
Some in need
Of their diapers changed
Or an afternoon nap
Or an evening bath
They nursed two at a time
And complained
Of not having
Enough nipples to feed them all
Wondering where
Their wives, their mothers,
And their daughters had gone

1 comment:

  1. Your poetry is like riddles...little mysteries where each word is a piece in the metaphor puzzle.
    The image I get from this one is political. Could be a legislative process gone sour, so even the "mothers" of the brilliant but "hungry" ideas have ditched them. Left are a group of petrified old men who don't know what to do with these "babies". Sign of the times???

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