David McLansky

(5/24/1944 / New York City)

Paris,1896


In my little garret room
Untouched by feather-duster broom
I slump down in my hard wood chair
And exhale cold clouds in icy air

Once I was rich, so rich in strength
I’d walk the city’s tireless length
And stop off at a strange café
Just to hear what the locals had to say;

Somehow I lost the wife and brats
Too many arguments, too many spats
I had the city as my cocoon
Now my range is this small room.

Once I could read by oil lamplight
Now headlines blur in full sunlight,
The mice sniff at my swollen feet
I stamp them to make them all retreat;

I bend my knee and raise my leg;
Should I be set with bowl to beg?
My horned and bunioned twisted toes
Could raise a coin if so exposed.

Once I strode the boulevards,
How my feet carried me afar;
Now they stall upon the stairs,
I had a thought to go out somewhere;

I sway and shuffle on the landing
My feet no longer are commanding;
How odd to stand here paralyzed
A treat for mice and buzzing flies.

Submitted: Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Paris,1896 by David McLansky )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. Chaperon, Nassy Fesharaki
  2. Great Warmth of a Curious Heart, B.. Alexander
  3. Whereabouts, B.. Alexander
  4. you're tall enough to ride this ride, Mandolyn ...
  5. Acrostic, Cheryl Griffith
  6. Heart, Sello Matsepe
  7. It Feels So Far Away This Evening..., B.. Alexander
  8. Neophytic Gay-Blade, Richard Thripp
  9. Rebel, Nassy Fesharaki
  10. Your Organ Donor Card, Richard Thripp

Poem of the Day

poet Sir Walter Scott

The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]