Replying to a comment on:
Bill Z Bub
through thousand small squares of open screen door rain becomes mist, collects, pools, and slicks. it thunders this BOOM in my wrist, in my head, neck, and chest when you mmm when you mmm we will bloom we will bloom.
Oh yeah, well I disagree with your disagreement because I want more than the storm, I want the creative metaphor of water on the screen. The water falling. The storm is clichÃ© but the opening metaphor and maybe I took it wrong because now I see the screen door is open. So then maybe the narrator is sitting in a lawn chair in the entrance way drinking a Molson in the rain waiting to sprout mold. Who knows up there in Canada? But the water on the screen and what can be done with that -- well that is what I was talking about.
Pilsner is for girls.
Track and Plan your submissions
Read some Comics
Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2020 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001