poemranker ::Parasite by Christof

DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

Free verse № 154124

Parasite

by Christof

Member since 2002 · Posted 18 Oct 2007 · 3 comments

The fog does not lie on the field Like a shroud or a cold white hand; It rises up, a sweat, a breath, Reminds the train it is not dead, No Charon in a bone-white land But a living fluke at the very least.

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 8.00 weighted 5.36 rank 3350 views 184 View voting details →

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

3 comments

[9] Ranger 21-Oct-07/1:40 PM Reply
Good poeme, although the train comes in maybe a little too abruptly, and "very least" sounds a bit too chunky to end with. Love the idea though.
[10] Skamper 22-Oct-07/10:13 PM Reply
having recently been amazed by fog in a tropical environment I connect with this...nice!
[10] INTRANSIT 23-Oct-07/1:27 PM Reply
A fluke. Really? I did not know that.