For the Blank Noise Project
I hate your city
paved with hot adrenalin
lurking in nooks and crannies
with dirty fingers and scarred elbows
of untamed desires and hardened passions
slinking into the unwarranted spaces of buses
or trains where little mothers tell their big daughters
not to avail of the breast and buttock groping free service
paved with hot adrenalin
lurking in nooks and crannies
with dirty fingers and scarred elbows
of untamed desires and hardened passions
slinking into the unwarranted spaces of buses
or trains where little mothers tell their big daughters
not to avail of the breast and buttock groping free service
posted by Saturn Child at 5:32 AM
1 Comments:
Hi raindanseuse, it's tempting to say things abt perverts as in the comment above, but if one reads Ian McEwan, whom I nearly worship as a writer, one can look into the utterly bubbling frothing innards of their sick minds and be a little less assaulting. What I liked abt your poem was the structure, the whole steplike monumental geometry that lends an increasing screaming like edge to your words...sounds paranoid and hugely matured at the same time. An achievement. Here's wishing your pen more might....
cheerz!
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