 icy lights behind black glass. come on buddy, you have to go someplace else can i stay until i finish my candy bar let's go - now! i went to harvard, i'm a teacher at berkeley the candy bar's made of coconut it will freeze and break my teeth, all right make it hard on me, do you really want to make me fill out a report and take you downtown in this weather?  then i won't be your friend any more i went to harvard. i'm a science professor at berkeley berkeley is three thousand miles away i know, i.m waiting for the bus, but i lost my ticket, and besides, you are not a real cop, just a transit cop, oh just a transit cop, and this is what, your private bed room, icy lights. sudden blast of air goodbye. lost my ticket  |
Sunday, January 17, 2010
the wanderer
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5 comments:
Brilliant writing here.
Menacing, very efficient writing and as last full of dread.
I like the structure a lot. You have a real talent for writing dialogs that are both thrilling and natural. I am sure you would be a very good theater- and screenplay writer (perhaps you already do that). But anyways, your poems and short stories are great as well!
akeith, ande and jenny thank you all very much.
jenny, i have never tried writing either plays or screenplays - and don't plan to any time soon. i have thought of trying to do animations - but so far the thought of the time and work involved have daunted me.
thanks again!
p s this poem - the wanderer - was printed in a little magazine in england around 1991. the pictures are new.
Timmy, this also made me think of a micro-play. I just love the end:
"...icy
lights. sudden
blast of air
goodbye."
Wonderfully original, as always.
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