06-26-2017, 11:43 AM
Hi Donald Q, this poem made me giggle and has a quality of delight. Thank you. Now I must try to tear it apart and that will be hard to do, but I will try my best to dive in.
A train station opens. Books and water
burst from a baggage car like an arcane
ritual on platform 2B. People complain what sort of people, normal people?
that such disruptions are not in keeping
with the spirit of the community. people in the town don't like the train station or just the activity on platform 2B?
the schedule does not alter. Liquid latex The. I am not sure if this is a spill or what...
pours out the doors of the eleven-thirty
and denouncements are made. Locals boycott
the rail service but still the carriages
come in, erupting with cheese and
wild ferrets. Staff strike but the empty hahaha wild ferrets...empty?
engines are undeterred, loads arrive; pistols,
anchors, chewing gum. Neighbourhood watch
sabotage the line and rip out the buffers,
nevertheless services hurtle the bent ] a tangle
metal and plow upside down through ] of words
the polished arches. Soil and off-brand ] these 3L
energy drinks fill the ticket office,
curtain hooks and lenticular artwork maybe it's my poor vocab, but I had to look up lenticular
destroy the concessions stand. Soon explain how it is destroyed, is it by heaps and piles?
the assortium runs miles down the
track, worlds of freight between burning
locomotives. Most residents have sold
at low prices; the town is silent save
the regular crashing of new arrivals.
The remainers make their home in
the railway detritus, lulled to sleep
by the breaking waves of rolling stock
decimating itself on the station shores.
Fountain pens, hangers, goldfish pellets,
warheads, laminate flooring, orphans,
sunrise, crocs. Boxsets, five irons,
crampons, condoms, horse hair, hey, crampons is chick secret code...
paper, nunchucks; the goods.
Overall good description of the monotony of over abundance.
And then there's that bigger picture. Something to certainly consider.
Wise poem.
thank you so much for the wonderful read
and privilege to critique. blessings
janine
A train station opens. Books and water
burst from a baggage car like an arcane
ritual on platform 2B. People complain what sort of people, normal people?
that such disruptions are not in keeping
with the spirit of the community. people in the town don't like the train station or just the activity on platform 2B?
the schedule does not alter. Liquid latex The. I am not sure if this is a spill or what...
pours out the doors of the eleven-thirty
and denouncements are made. Locals boycott
the rail service but still the carriages
come in, erupting with cheese and
wild ferrets. Staff strike but the empty hahaha wild ferrets...empty?
engines are undeterred, loads arrive; pistols,
anchors, chewing gum. Neighbourhood watch
sabotage the line and rip out the buffers,
nevertheless services hurtle the bent ] a tangle
metal and plow upside down through ] of words
the polished arches. Soil and off-brand ] these 3L
energy drinks fill the ticket office,
curtain hooks and lenticular artwork maybe it's my poor vocab, but I had to look up lenticular
destroy the concessions stand. Soon explain how it is destroyed, is it by heaps and piles?
the assortium runs miles down the
track, worlds of freight between burning
locomotives. Most residents have sold
at low prices; the town is silent save
the regular crashing of new arrivals.
The remainers make their home in
the railway detritus, lulled to sleep
by the breaking waves of rolling stock
decimating itself on the station shores.
Fountain pens, hangers, goldfish pellets,
warheads, laminate flooring, orphans,
sunrise, crocs. Boxsets, five irons,
crampons, condoms, horse hair, hey, crampons is chick secret code...
paper, nunchucks; the goods.
Overall good description of the monotony of over abundance.
And then there's that bigger picture. Something to certainly consider.
Wise poem.
thank you so much for the wonderful read
and privilege to critique. blessings
janine
there's always a better reason to love