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flatword
(Untitled)
May 30, 2005 05:47
So much to view
and so little rhyme
to skew it in.
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Comments 3
hidee13
May 31 2005, 23:16:35 UTC
And yet, you never write poems anymore. Or at least, not that I'm aware of.
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flatword
June 1 2005, 07:22:48 UTC
I haven't. Hence the so little rhyme!
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Description of a Lost Thing
anonymous
June 1 2005, 16:21:13 UTC
It never had a name,
Nor do I remember how I found it.
I carried it in my pocket
Like a lost button
Except it wasn't a button.
Horror movies,
All-night cafeterias,
Dark barrooms
And poolhalls,
On rain-slicked streets.
It led a quiet, unremarkable existence
Like a shadow in a dream,
An angel on a pin,
And then it vanished.
The years passed with their row
Of nameless stations,
Till somebody told me this is it!
And fool that I was,
I got off on an empty platform
With no town in sight.
(Charles Simic)
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Comments 3
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Nor do I remember how I found it.
I carried it in my pocket
Like a lost button
Except it wasn't a button.
Horror movies,
All-night cafeterias,
Dark barrooms
And poolhalls,
On rain-slicked streets.
It led a quiet, unremarkable existence
Like a shadow in a dream,
An angel on a pin,
And then it vanished.
The years passed with their row
Of nameless stations,
Till somebody told me this is it!
And fool that I was,
I got off on an empty platform
With no town in sight.
(Charles Simic)
Reply
Leave a comment