Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Annaliese and Perdita

Huddling’s a reflex reaction to lack
with too many possible meanings to crack:
just try to imagine what leans and presses,
besieges and stresses, assuages and messes
with these two sisters, Perdita and Annaliese,
whom you see huddling here. Do they
huddle against a fear, the cold, a painful
memory? – do they huddle toward hopes
of love? Do they huddle about who lost
a glove – or where they should go for lunch?
Annaliese means “graced with God’s bounty.”
Perdita means “lost.” Whose soul belongs
in the happier county? Whose soul can’t
meet the cost? As you watch this tight-knit
bunch of two: the serenely golden girl,
and the frazzled hag in blue, we bet you’ve
got more than a hunch. And of course you do.
Most sensible folk would agree with you.
But Annaliese and Perdita brim with surprise.
They’re working out lies to cover their plans
to murder their dad, and to murder their
mother, too (in disguise). Oh, and Annaliese,
in blue, is the fun one – not Perdy, in gold:
she’s a shrew. Ha! And you thought you knew.

No comments: