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Your tires have tangled, tickled
tops of water until you dive
in your metal suit of paint and glass,
broken bones and a tank of gas.

You are just a box of bees,
your radio buzzes and breathes -

a fading breeze,

tire marks and pleas.

-
©2006-2009 *xiooua
Details
Submitted: April 12, 2006
File Size: 399 bytes
Image Size: 22.9 KB
Resolution: 300×50
Comments: 43
Favourites & Collections: 12 [who?]

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Author's Comments

#

08/23/08
Much needed edit.
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I like it too, especially the surprise awesome rhyming deal with "tank of gas." Yay!
Thank you Ms. Jayne! :heart:
I agree with telescopica, the surprise rhyming was cleverly done :)

--
I cannot see or feel,
But I know.
I generally like my poetry less abstract, but I love your work with sound. Alliteration, consonance, assonance--you use them so well that I have to read this aloud to myself. Sounds and images are your strengths.
I know I just fav'd a piece of yours, but I have to fav this as well.

--
Critiquing someone's prose or poetry is an awesome thing to do.
:star:The supremely awesome Mimesis 3 is available now!
Less abstract? You won't see that from me very often. =P

I'm glad you liked it! Tell me this one isn't as vague as my others, did you understand it? I tried my best not to be vague.
I agree with bananaprincess, your images and sounds and the feeling of being in there you get in this poem is superb.

--
listen out for the whisper, the whisper on the wind . . .

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