Member-only story
POETRY
Casablanca
This could be the beginning
of a beautiful cliche
since everything I know –
I’m shocked, Shocked! to find —
is based on the movie
I’ve played it again and again
I love the part when they sing
the Marseillaise
What does that say about me,
that I am willing to accept
only having the Hollywood
definition?
The city remains
a white house locked in time,
in a box of old photos
monochrome
like the family lore
we argue over
but never get quite right
Another Poemorama Part II offering!
Again, I know nothing at all about the real place that is Casablanca, so instead of doing research, I went with the classic “write what you know” thing, and here you go. Thanks, readers!
