Poem 56: There was no starlight in her eyes

There was no starlight in her eyes
when I asked her for a dance,
but she was the only wallflower left, and
beggars can’t be choosers.

There was no starlight in her eyes.
She cavorted to the beat like a waddling duck;
her arms flayed like a windmill. Yeah,
beggars can’t be choosers.

There was no starlight in her eyes.
Her clothes didn’t match her hair;
they looked like hand-me-downs. See,
beggars can’t be choosers.

There was no starlight in her eyes.
I guess that goes with being blind.

 

 

13 thoughts on “Poem 56: There was no starlight in her eyes

  1. umashankar

    What a heartbreaking sonnet that is! Lyrical and fluid, they sink deeper with each stroke of the twin refrains –and for a moment I wondered how Paul Simon would croon that– before the trademark irony in the closing couplet. I am reassured I am reading Bruce Goodman.

    Reply

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