Mrs. Coley’s three-flat brick
Isn’t here any more.
All done with seeing her fat little form
Burst out of the basement door;
And with seeing her African son-in-law
(Rightful heir to the throne)
With his great white strong cold squares of teeth
And his little eyes of stone;
And with seeing the squat fat daughter
Letting in the men
When majesty has gone for the day—
And letting them out again.
A beautiful poem with nice depiction is being shared amazingly.
OMG LOVED THIS POEM! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! LOVE U SUPPORTERS! ! ! ! !
I wouldn't like my home to be anywhere near this kind of flat and its inhabitants. Didn't find the poem interesting.
Sum this up with Good Riddance to Bad Rubbish. If I lived close to that brick house and its miserable inhabitants, I might feel the same. One doesn't like that kind of goings on going on next door., Actually the very concise descriptions said a short story worth about the characters including the narrator, Excellent poetic work here!
Poetic observation at its best without judgement but with perception and vision
Descriptions so supreme we want to scream why can't we write poetry like this.