from the log lady...

Ruth Stone

Male Gorillas

At the doughnut shop
twenty-three silverbacks
are lined up at the bar,
sitting on the stools.
It’s morning coffee and trash day.
The waitress has a heavy feeling face,
considerate with carmine lipstick.
She doesn’t brown my fries.
I have to stand at the counter
and insist on my order.
I take my cup of coffee to a small
inoffensive table along the wall.
At the counter the male chorus line
is lined up tight.
I look at their almost identical butts;
their buddy hunched shoulders,
the curve of their ancient spines.
They are methodically browsing
in their own territory.
This data goes into that vast
confused library, the female mind.


Very Twin Peaks. A strong presentation of setting that’s made all the more powerful because of the matter-of-fact force of each line. Stone, obviously, believes in this poem, and that makes me a believer as well. I really like the “small / inoffensive table along the wall”.

Such a marvelous glimpse into clear and absolute psychological distinctions.

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