(Untitled)
.Does a truth exist.
Sat there, bench overlooking one-hundred-and-eighty degrees of
Main Street, yawned itself out in front of me.
Street lamps romanticized themselves, my help was
unnecessary.
(Though I did anyway)
My eyes ran themselves in and
out
of focus with the tempo of the locks of steam,
crawling out of the gaps in the manholes.
Everything
Sat there, bench overlooking one-hundred-and-eighty degrees of
Main Street, yawned itself out in front of me.
Street lamps romanticized themselves, my help was
unnecessary.
(Though I did anyway)
My eyes ran themselves in and
out
of focus with the tempo of the locks of steam,
crawling out of the gaps in the manholes.
Everything
Comments 3
that line is amazing simply amazing whether you meant it how i took it or not it's great
i wont explain how i interpreted it because it's probably not how you meant it but i think what's important is not necessarily aouthorial intent, in poetry's case, but rather reader impact
so just know that it meant something to me...perhaps that's all a piece can ever wish for
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Regards,
Skeff
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