they are stopping to consider the trees
how a shopping trolley
to roll the wind track like a trail
yes, Timothy was nice
only eat drink sleep
or once in a while
presently smelling so new
all blown to hell gone out
another happens, or is happening
so sporting like cricket the seabirds
there is formica there are robots
to be scared of an absence
as I to be bookish
and unending a fillet
summers day or
toothy grinning man
a street corner or elevator
buried as iconoclast
over stopping foppish radio
and department stores
a loop that is dependent
contextually the dew
floating over bridges
brittle to support breakage
a jawbone
5 comments:
It flows smoothly over the channels, loops and varied conclusions I found in your poem. Dreadfully good piece.
Wow, this is brilliant. It feels as if quicksand or some kind of eerie breeziness run through the lines.
Thanks for this one, Ross.
Wow, Ross. The entire poem is stunning. I particularly love:
"there is formica there are robots
to be scared of an absence
as I to be bookish
and unending a fillet
summers day or
toothy grinning man"
I like very much about this one.
And always when i'm reading something that i like very much it's given an inpiration to me:
i sometimes to cut-up poems and your poem give an inpiration to this...
roll the wind
roll
roll-oll-roll
drink and sleep:
you: the early bird:
seabird
robotbird
filled with radiosummers
roll
roll-oll-roll
roll the wind
So thank You for the enjoyable reading, your enjoyable poem!
This is really good.
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