Dots

 

Watching Dali on "What's My Line,"
kinescope blackening glare 
to shadow,

I imagine Jules Verne 
in a carnival
dunking booth, 

Paul Verlaine shooting 
apples from Rimbaud's 
head, 

or Houdini 
forced to escape
from WalMart. 

America, your true talents
are diminution 
and belittlement-- 

reducing our Roberts 
to Bobbies,
our Margarets to Pegs

and our Dorothies 
to nothing
but Dots.

Comments

[trainwatcher]

At least being reduced from Robert to Bob makes me a palindrome. Not everybody can say that.