Pocket Theatre - Poem by Charles Simic
Fingers in an overcoat pocket. Fingers sticking out of a black leather glove. The nails chewed raw. One play is called "Thieves' Market," another "Night in a Dime Museum." The fingers when they strip are like bewitching nude bathers or the fake wooden limbs in a cripple factory. No one ever sees the play: you put your hand in somebody else's pocket on the street and feel the action.
Comments about Pocket Theatre by Charles Simic
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Read poems about / on: night