i once found a secret passage to a million lightyears distant lake in a simple handbag

.

the boy is thousand years old
not as wrinkly as you would expect though,
piNk tie,
what he holds exactly

we don’t know

my guess is he’s been waiting
several hundred years already
arms worn//thin

the manager’s a bit offended as i tell him
that he cannot walk into a running presentation

maybe it is him

or just the contrast of some shade i’ve seen
as we walked through the park

a fountain pen,
black marker,
tiny box of watercolor

and rose glistening lipgloss,

business card
a lack of handkerchieves (my mom would hate this)
box of condoms cause you never– (nah, i’m kidding)

him though?

maybe it’s not his at all
——–maybe he just holds it,
as we tend to

maybe his girl is in a dressing room or
said she’d be back in a few minutes but–

sometimes there’s more than just one exit&
how do we handle it

i meet him briefly
on the plaza in a spanish town
sHrilLsCrEAms
from the nearby coaster bounce from bleached walls

he looks slightly out of place
“what’s the owl’s name?” someone asks

but who am i–

————to answer.

18 responses to “i once found a secret passage to a million lightyears distant lake in a simple handbag

  1. I love this. The title. The artwork. The owl. The goofy dude wearing a pink ink tie and carrying a purse. (Hilarious.) The “arms worn / arm sworn” part.

    This:
    “that he cannot walk into a running presentation
    maybe it is him”

    This glistening lip gloss.

    This:
    “maybe his girl is in a dressing room or
    said she’d be back in a few minutes but–
    sometimes there’s more than just one exit&”

    But the last four lines are my favorites.

  2. I think I might crawl into that handbog.
    I really like the use of the owl there in the end as well.
    who am i – it is a question we often ponder and as a group of people
    and individuals struggle with – what is our identity grounded in,
    and is it subject to change based on different situations.

    I have spent the morning reading a philosopy book
    and so I am interpretting it through that as well. Ha.
    Using the constructs of the world around us and our own stories
    and the stories we have experienced we make sense of the world
    around us. And you do that well, in this.

  3. Too many speculations could be raised on that scene, Claudia. If I’m overly malicious I would think he stole that bag from someone else or maybe you were right in there when you said he probably might just be waiting for his girl. Ha.. I love that painting, Claudia, with the owl that is rather intriguing in his googling eyes. Smiles.

  4. What I get from your poem is ….. seems like you did a lot of speculating about this boy after you painted him. One thing about your creation, he can be whoever you want him to be today….and maybe he can be someone else tomorrow!

  5. I like the question about the identity at the end and the poet’s wise answer. I also like the items in the bag and what they say of you, (I too was told about the handkerchiefs and usually have a few but that is because of my allergies and the desire not to be embarrassed if I sneeze). I guess what is in that bag could help answer the question.

  6. “sometimes there’s more than just one exit”. Some of the lines of your poems stick in the mind like post-it notes that never fall off. Thanks, I enjoyed this.🙂

    Greetings from London.

  7. … i met a guy like that a while ago … skinny as a rail … almost dead … stumbling over his own toes … but a great lover … “figure that” said the cat … Always, cat.

  8. Claudia, I can’t find your email address anywhere, even though I know we have corresponded. Would you be kind enough to email me.
    Ms_Marie_Marshall{a}hotmail.com

    Thanks.
    M

  9. So much can be read into an observation and perhaps we are wrong on all counts. My X husband never minded holding my purse but after reading this I wonder how many people wondered about him doing so.

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