Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

The Boast

At the dinner table, before the
baked eggplant, you tell the story
of your friend,
Ira, how he kept a three-foot
piranha in his basement.

"It was this long," you say,
extending your arms,
"And it was striped, with silver
scales and blue shadows."

The man with purple eyes lifts
his eyebrows; you laugh at his
joke about the lady in the
sausage suit, your toes find his
under the table, and he is yours.

Evening expires in a yawn of stars.
But on the walk home, when he
pulls you into the hedges, and the
black tongues of leaves flutter,
and those boogey-man eyes glitter,

There won't be time for coming
back with lies, with lies.

Written by Rita Dove


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge