DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

Once they were gliders.

Member since 2006 · Posted 9 Sep 2006 · Edited 9 Sep 2006 · 5 comments

Once they were gliders. Now the choked up cars hack along making tin out of silence. They gutter up and sigh in turn like a procession for the handicapped. If they find their cupid, their greasy knight, new glittery prosthetics will keep them for awhile.

Rate it

0 is the worst, 10 the best. Pick a number, add a comment if you like, then send it. Keys: 0–9 pick, Enter sends.

mean 6.20 weighted 5.14 rank 5393 views 290 View voting details →

5 votes so far. Yours would make 6.5 votes so far

5 comments

[7] Dovina 9-Sep-06/4:41 PM Reply

On first read I knew what this meant. Now after three reads I have no idea.

[8] Ranger 9-Sep-06/10:05 PM Reply

Pretty cool, I'll have to come back to this later for a proper read of it :-)

[6] amanda_dcosta 10-Sep-06/8:51 AM Reply

What is this about? Maybe I am too tired... or this has no meaning. If the latter, kindly excuse me.

[n/a] half.italian › amanda_dcosta 10-Sep-06/10:43 AM Reply

Its just about cars getting old and decrepit. The lucky ones will get repaired.

Take what you want from it.

[10] dvincent 20-Sep-06/3:19 PM Reply

Half.italian

Your imagery and lyrical cadences are great -- "Hack along making tin out of silience." "gutter up and sigh in turn." That's good, vivid and musical language.

One thing I just realized that I think would help this. You should have named it simply "Cars" and in the second line where you say the word "cars" maybe changed that to "coupes" (the choked up coupes)or "sedans" or "wagons" or... not sure.

Anyway, very nice poem.