Replying to a comment on:

route nine (Free verse) by Bill Z Bub

Route nine, two thousand times, by the yellow sign Counting each second, under drowning pines Waiting for another moment to arrive, repeating numbered smiles between sighs. Picking up needles paired like twins between finger and thumb they spin Passersby grin in the wake of wet tires Deliberate hair plastered with cool July brine I can already hear the boxcutter's whine, or have I fallen asleep again? Route nine, two thousand times, by the yellow sign, only looking forward to a warm blue bus before work

Bill Z Bub 9-Dec-02/8:51 PM
I'm going to stay out of this one.




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