Saturday, January 20, 2007

Whore's Glove

The shamble leg man found a whore’s glove with mother of pearl buttons and broken thread, from being slipped on and off, he figured, in the dustbin behind the Jewish grocer’s. He stowed it in his greatcoat pocket and thought nothing more of it until the button started to pinch his leg, just to the side of his pubic bone, where he had a sore from sleeping in wet trousers. He reached into his pocket, retrieved the button and held it aloft between his forefinger and thumb. There was a straight pin in the glove, the whore’s glove. The shamble leg man noticed a prick on his finger, the second one in from his pinkie finger, a curd of blood forming a scab the shape of a mother of pearl, pearl, a faint line like tailor’s thread on his fingernail, whore’s thread seamed with baker's flour and seeds.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Really great arresting imagery.


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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz

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