Pocket Theatre in  General   

Fingers in an overcoat pocket. Fingers sticking out of a black leather glove.
The nails chewed raw. One play is called "Thieves' Market," another "Night in a Dime Museum."
The fingers when they strip are like bewitching nude bathers or the fake wooden limbs in a cripple factory.
No one ever sees the play: you put your hand in somebody else's pocket on the street and feel the action.

By Charles Simic

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Other poems by Charles Simic:

• A Book Full of Pictures
• Against Winter
• Clouds Gathering
• Coal
• Errata
• Eyes Fastened With Pins
• Heights Of Folly
• Hotel Insomnia
• Inner Man
• Paradise Motel
• Pocket Theatre
• Poem Without A Title
• Private Eye
• Read Your Fate
• Summer In The Country
• Talking To Little Birdies
• The Bather
• The Initiate
• The Oldest Child
• The Partial Explanation
• The School Of Metaphysics
• The Supreme Moment
• The White Room
• This Morning
• To The One Upstairs
• Watermelons
• Wherein Obscurely