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Emergency

Member since 2002 · Posted 27 Jan 2003 · 4 comments

We ponder Deserted scenes in office blocks, Fluorescent lights incorrectly fitted That flicker intensively Over empty desks, Dirty cups, and wastebins Full of deserted ideas From people Who dream only of computer screens We break glass to escape The burning plastic That comes in nightmares. We live in dread of breathing Toxic smoke in narrow corridors, Encountering death in stairwells Broken lift shafts, Car parks devoid of vehicles and light, Or anywhere within Their sphere of influence.

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4 comments

[5] nentwined 27-Jan-03/10:01 AM Reply

I think I need more context for this. as it, it seems pointlessly haphazard/random.

[9] Jeremi B. Handrinos 27-Jan-03/12:02 PM Reply

I don't agree with nentwined here.
This is probably the best sept 11th organic attempt at lucid poetics yet..here, that is..why? because it almost isn't..get it? think about that

[n/a] Nicholas Jones › Jeremi B. Handrinos 28-Jan-03/4:43 AM Reply

I like the September 11th interpretation (and it does fit, the stairwells and corridors and stuff), but I actually wrote this poem long before that - according to Word, February 2001. This highlights an important fact about literature - while it is perfectly acceptable to read your own experience into a poem, this can never be taken as representative of the author's intention. I'm afraid Jeremi, you've committed the intentionalist fallacy. Maybe I just had some kind of freaky premonition.

[9] Bill Z Bub 27-Jan-03/5:49 PM Reply

Not bad. In fact, I like it. Quite a bit. Very good.