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Nouveau Riche

Making sure the world
Could see
The word is "swanky"
Something sequined
Something with sparkling taste
Tip-toes on stilettoes

I watch. I can't help
But smile.
The way they laugh to palm
Away the cracked mirrors
Like tinkling annuities

Tucked inside her wishes
Was spite
Her fur coat made a life belt
Around her body. God knew
Nothing else would save her

I had to smile. Nothing seemed
To fit
Not noise like that, neither
The slow drip, drip of names
Dropped like used seed-pods

On the paquetry. Tip-toes
Echoed with
Emptiness. Something clever
Laughed in my face. It looked
Like the skeleton of faith.

© David Incoll 2001

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Copyright by David Incoll 2001