|
|
The Medium of Dunce (Other) by Ranger
She sits upon the pavement; stares at glass
As Fortune comes to settle in her hand.
She'll speak the spirits' tongue and understand
Not why the spectres make their stony pass
Like silent stars in night wind's chilling blast.
That gifted speech is scorned by ghost men - and
She sits upon the pavement; stares at glass
As Fortune comes to settle in her hand
Wreathed in smoke, mad eyes which roll so fast
See no silk daybreak leave horizon's band.
Before her - jokers, aces, hearts are fanned
-She sits upon the pavement, lost in glass.
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
| Graph | Votes |
10 |
|
3 | 0 |
9 |
|
1 | 0 |
8 |
|
2 | 0 |
7 |
|
1 | 0 |
6 |
|
1 | 0 |
5 |
|
0 | 0 |
4 |
|
0 | 0 |
3 |
|
0 | 0 |
2 |
|
0 | 0 |
1 |
|
0 | 0 |
0 |
|
0 | 0 |
|
Arithmetic Mean: 8.5
Weighted score: 5.941295
Overall Rank: 1388
Posted: February 12, 2007 3:13 PM PST; Last modified: February 12, 2007 3:13 PM PST
View voting details
Comments:
298 view(s)
|