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René Magritte's The Son of Man, 1964
-Warren Lee
A green apple is being thrown across the air,
full one hundred miles per hour, at
a single man standing in front of an old wall.
The man dressed in a black coat and a black bowler hat,
did not see this coming.
He was simply minding his own business,
getting his picture taken.
Oh, he's no model
who would show off his marvelous swim shorts.
In fact, he is going to hide his awe-striking swim shorts
under his dull suit, but rather a common suit.
It's nothing to hide that his suit is worn by many.
It'll make him competely normal,
someone so normal that they'd fit into the crowd perfectly,
so that if he takes his picture, nobody would notice him and his crooked left arm.
So he got his new camera out, set it on a stand,
went back to stand in front of the wall,
with his back to the vast ocean that smelt like
a piece of rotten old fungus, a fowl stench that would normally make people frown.
But,
maybe he was wrong.
Not only were people not frowning.
the apple was coming straight for his face.
Blimey, he was not mixing in, in fact, he was very noticeable!
At first, the man wasn't alarmed.
He was rather curious-
a green unripe apple.
What could it possibly taste like?
He was imagining sour juices exploding in his mouth,
covering his throat as if it were trying to invade it.
The next thought blew on him as the apple got closer.
The man could feel the strong gust of wind,
not simply tingling his skin,
but pushing against his face like a bully pushes little kids in school.
He felt slightly anxious.
Will the apple hit him?
He could hear the sound the wind created by the gale of green,
like the musical crescendo created by a full string orchestra.
Oh goodness, the man was feeling very anxious,
even fearful of what would happen next, buy
people could no longer see the man's face.
They could not feel what the man felt-
his emotions were already hidden under the green menace.
His arms were already hidden under the green menace.
The man in the suit was already hidden under the green menace.
The man is mostly hidden by a green apple which you characterize as a mask of menace; I like your narration, even though it seems a bit weird. Overall nice poem. Great read as always.
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