The UpgradeA Poem by Darryl Davis
It was late afternoon , my skull was arid
it struck me that I needed a new vehicle to drive my thoughts far enough, fast enough to the eyes and ears unknowingly awaiting them. A self conscious consumer, I did my homework, took my time, snapping reverse angle pictures of me behind each and every wheel, feeling the newness with each nostril and furrowed brow. I went with a traditional, up market Sonnet first and " despite how many virginities had been lost in the back seat " it still felt more like my father’s than my own. The Ode was no better, enveloping the driver in thick clouds of vaulted purpose and was impossible to get parts and accessories for. The 180 degree flipping side mirrors on the Sestina were eye catching but seemed distracting to the driver on today’s winding road. And while the Dylan Thomas signature model Villanelle looked like a joy to play with, I honestly didn’t know what I’d do with it and feared for its resale value. Towards the back of the lot was an endless sea of boiler-plated, three-stroke-wonder Haiku but even the full-sized Tanka left me unconvinced about how much leg room there really was. With a blood orange evening tumbling ripe towards the Earth, I bent to tie my shoes, scurried through the ditch to Green Street and let the incandescent night rise to guide my way, illuminating most of the street signs and cheap hotels between "here" and wherever "there" is. © 2011 Darryl DavisAuthor's Note
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5 Reviews Added on June 7, 2011 Last Updated on June 7, 2011 AuthorDarryl DavisBrussels, BelgiumAboutNote: Friend requests sent by people who haven't read/commented on anything of mine will be declined without exception. I'm an American poet in Belgium with a particular interest in fusing free ver.. more..Writing
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