Replying to a comment on:

Crowded (Other) by INTRANSIT

Nineteen gauges lighting up the cab. White and anxious needles making little stabs. Passive indicators show their minute sweeps, the scope of their inspections leaving naught to keep. Nineteen meters tell their stories long I turn the panel down, hearing what is wrong.

INTRANSIT 13-Mar-06/2:31 PM
you know Matt, the first thought did start every line with "Nineteen gauges". I knew I could do better. And I can do better than this too, eventually. thanks for the fence-vote.




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001