{"sf1_id":1811377,"sf2_id":"RnoDDRv1","title":"Penguins","author":"makyo","words":143,"posted_at":"2022-01-23T06:23:00.000Z","tags":["Death","Grief","Homework","Poem"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1811377-penguins","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/RnoDDRv1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/cb/f6/cbf61b92-ad9a-4f4b-ba52-cf53699c16cd","description":"#17 of Poetry\n\nAs I go through my MFA program, I'll obviously be writing quite a bit, but much of that won't be posted here for various reasons. However, some neat stuff has come out of the generative workshops that I can share, so hey, have a poem from a workshop on surprise.","content":"Too many suits move in too many lines.  \nThey circle banquet tables, hawk-eyed,  \nhunting crudites, canapés, bruscheta.  \nFingers ferry food -- fish, perhaps -- finding  \nslack-jawed mouths already open,  \nsquawking at wayward children  \nor bemoaning The Market,  \nwhatever that may be.  \nAt some point, who cares how long ago,  \ndeath surfaced, claimed one, submerged again.  \nWho knows how well they knew him,  \ntheir backs turned, studiously  \ndeciding that he is no longer of them?  \none could never guess.  \nWe can say his suit was very fine, perhaps,  \nthat the room is tastefully furnished,  \nthe coffin silver, the bar, open,  \nquite good, and none of them are drunk yet,  \nor at least none look it.  \n\"Good man, good man,\" they mutter,  \ndoing all they can to convince each other  \nthrough well-rehearsed performances,  \nthat this must be the case.  \nThe silently bereaved already sit graveside.  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1713738-liminality.json"}}