[I love send-ups of T.S. Eliot, & I love love poems! & I love this poem by Carmen Leone!]
Love Song Upon Leaving Art Class
(With Apologies to T. S. Eliot)
While all the other students come and go
talking of tests and Michelangelo,
what if I were to say, the moment being right,
“Maybe we should catch a movie, have a bite.
Just you and me.”
I feel that it might come up casually,
and she might nod (a small nod would suffice)
and I would say, “Tonight?” And she, “That would be nice.”
But what if—while the others come and go
talking of tests and Michelangelo—
what if I’ve confused her joy with mine
and she should redden and decline,
and shrink away and leave me standing there,
humiliated? Should I risk it? Do I dare?
I do not dare, I do not dare.
I’ll measure out my days alone somewhere.
I will grow old, I will grow old,
and cease to wear my Levis pegged and rolled.
© 2009-the present