Helicopters in Nantes
Cape Town microclimates
violent real estate in Big Apples the world over
Afghan by night he wanders
from one gentrified neighbourhood to slums
crime with a view
he talks about eternal objects of desire
he steals, scrounges, prostitutes self and others
to be talked about
to be successful.
It’s the hommes who are fatales.
He cannot move beyond his appointed place
his background checks
respect the rules of the universe you are in
don’t test the elasticity of frontiers
this is his kryptonite
or your turn of the dime
when we lunge at monsters we will find
not many imaginary ones among them.
our lives all repetition
ritual
transcription of past conversations
verbatim
what a piddling bore
Linked to dVerse Poets Pub and their fortnightly Open Link Night.
findingtimetowrite 
Oh, this is potent, Marina Sofia! It really does capture the essence of what that sort of person is like. Fascinating and scary….
I had one image in my mind as I was writing this but then, when I was rereading and editing, a completely different image emerged, so it’s a mish=mash.
I like this one. I have to add that in the noir world, there is such a figure as the homme fatale, so you nailed it.
Just don’t ask me what it means! I think two very different images coalesced in my mind as I wrote this.
Perfectly understandable
Very true, that….
The homes fatale does grow crashingly boring in their repeats of violence. Your last line said it all – what a piddling bore.
I won’t tell you how long I searched for just the right word ‘piddling’…
I’ll bet. I suppose you did. Here in the south we often use the word, trifling. I prefer nugatory myself. But when I get really upset about something, piddling is perfect!!! 🙂
Spot on!
I couldn’t agree more! . I especially like the lines:
‘when we lunge at monsters we will find
not many imaginary ones among them’.
I’m sure there are also femmes fatale, but you are right, it’s the hommes who mainly have the power–and they are very real monsters.
A frightful bore and rotten to the core!
Oh, and the bloody history of the old, at times when life expectancy was 40 and the world was run by hormone-filled teenage hommes fatale…
You are so right, now that I think about it, most of those kings ordering wars were in their late teens…
Yes, I think in the species called “human”, the male is most often the more deadly.
But sometimes our fears are greater than the reality too. So I think I was trying to get at both of these issues. Whether I succeeded or not is of course an entirely different matter…
Yes there is a big talk about difference in crime statistics…
what’s also true is that the victims are also mostly men. We are dangerous indeed…
And at the same time there is a perception of danger. I was thinking of my black friend whose teenage son gets stopped and searched all the time…
There is a sharp edge to this, nicely done.
Thank you. It’s a bit tongue in cheek too…
We humans are deadly, not only to others, but also to mother nature ~ Good to read you Marina ~ Have a good weekend ~
Going off on a poetry writing retreat tomorrow – my only holiday this year – so am feeling very pleased! Thank you for your visit!
I am reading Fay Weldon’s Letters to Alice. Have you read it?
No, but it sounds right up my road. Of course, I’m already convinced of the relevance of Jane Austen, but still…
I’m reading it and it’s also about writing. I think you’d get a lot out of it. review soon.
“…when we lunge at monsters we will find / not many imaginary ones among them…” Great line!
I suppose it’s all that testosterone that has to be channeled somewhere and often trouble looms to be repeated when guys are young and don’t have the intellectual capacity to make better choices. Ugh!
There is a sharpness to this poem that tugs directly at the heart. Beautifully penned.
I just recommend you to read this article
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/saadia-zahidi/what-makes-the-nordic-cou_b_4159555.html
so to understand that things can also be different.