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Click herePeace checkered small voice
and deep clicking red black
I'm in a bit of a pickle
red black black
getting darker out
twelve strings sliding
us into the night
There's places I can move
but I'm trying to think
about the moment
the very one right here
I can cakewalk it
straight up to the next
criss-cross over squares
I moved Dad
Ok I'll just read the board
or the window, the night
jumping into the sky, kinged
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 35,000 poems.
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An excellent effort,requires a little concentration,I guess the end is like it is.
I read this about 5 times yesterday and it left me feeling like i missed something..its a fabulous piece of work, and when i read it again this morning it just clicked..this should have an E..
i can be rather dense sometimes...
with a sense of road weariness, reflection and quiet contemplation...as it was intended i am sure...very nice...thanks.
but just as thought provoking as everything else you write.
I like you stripped down...the poem that is
; )
You pick the right words to make the images sharp and lasting
and yeah that last stanza is great
Thank you Ange
I liked it, but it feels different from what I usually get from you. I like the other stuff too, but this seems clipped, and yet still fluid. It's short on words and long on perspective. It makes me wonder what's going on with you, and yet tells me at the same time. Interesting, anhellina.