Wrong Again (poem)
This was better, more sensitive.
But so much silence in his conversation-mate
Must be a warning. “I’ve learned not to apologize.”
He thought, Why me?
A line of inquiry that promised to go badly.
“You’ve learned not to apologize,” she said.
The topic seemed to want a change of scene.
Of things to talk about there was the blazon
The spear that symbolizes victory
In the eagle’s talon on his pocket
“I’ve noticed yours is like everyone else’s.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Am I wrong again?”
To dream I say or think these things…“I suppose,”
she said, “if I had a club jacket, I would wear it, too.”
All round the room are prints in metal frames
Fashion plates signed by their creators
Fauna washed in colored inks, aloof
Photographs of beach scenes peek
Striped umbrellas flesh and costumes
Not so much a smack of black and white
As unwitting imprints of atomic night
(2017, Stephanie Foster)