The Objects in Catalogs Poem by Elaine Equi
The Objects in Catalogs
are made of light.
Well-lit or seemingly edible,
butterscotch and hazelnut light.
A bit vulgar, like starlets
the objects pose, pausing
as though in mid-sentence.
But really they are mute
— the story barely there.
Like children they wait to hear us
tell of the great Platonic love
we have for our many selves.
A vast literature reduced here
to a few short phrases: numbers
letters and of course, price.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/17/2024 3:23:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
