![]() SentryA Poem by Laura LynnSENTRY Tonight again the intolerable screen that still can teach a lesson about a kind of life. We know that people like Swimming. The greatest thing since sliced bread was sillier than the sentry. “Mo-om,” he cries from the stairs. Awesomely, their mothers were actresses, their mothers were seamstresses, models, writers, dancers, a world Criss-crossed with a different sort of poverty, where chips are all of dinner, or Campbell’s soup. Stupid history Infringed by the personal. Personal history made myopic…I think about all the things I cannot do; how myopically Forrest sees trees like candy. We plant the trees with their fruit and there are different ones spaced evenly, unnaturally Shaped, too even in this virtual plan. Things ought to be more lop-sided I think. I see all the glowing pictures like Hairy cartoons, no, not really hairy but many and it is as though the world did not exist without links. I would rather Ignite the night with old world fire, use a switch to turn the power off and ask for this fantasy world to slowly transition, Now plain, now a little more elaborate, now very elaborate. Of course that must have something to do with getting old. Guys and dolls whirr past on trains and airplanes. I have no idea how they can afford any of it or how like a stuffed doll Ingrid feels at times. Here I am another marionette waiting with the others in a tended line. Where are they going? Mary has left me behind, and so has the handsome stranger. Why act like a stranger again? Again I find my strangers Exonerated; then slightly familiar; then strange again. I am in New York. No, please don’t make me go to that cold city. Lottie died and didn’t send me an invitation to her funeral. Send me to your cold city but let it be sort of hot somehow. © 2014 Laura LynnFeatured Review
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1 Review Added on November 6, 2014 Last Updated on November 6, 2014 Author![]() Laura LynnFairfax, VAAboutI like writing. I don't know what else to say. This has been a great website to share works in progress, some which I have abandoned some which I loose to myself and enjoy writing most of all. It'.. more..Writing
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