Running from Poetry

After some time in the military, I was convinced I could never be a "writer"

 

corner youth, youth there on the corner

living life

dying

while we panhandle for a piece

of his raw courage

 

same sleek cylinders, same tight skin

grease

pumping

we wish we had a cigarette

we wish we had the time

his hair, his stains

 

while we glaze

he burns

and we send ourselves to work

singing

and we send ourselves to work

biding

Reviews

[Legion]

What the hell! You think you can't be a writer. You just disproved yourself here. Very good piece. That last line really hits home. Wasting time instead of living it. Well done. Kudos.

[Chris T.]

Might want to convince yourself otherwise. It is a very interesting piece. I am reading it several times, picking up little nuances (whether intended or not, they are still very neat). I'd like to think I got the message or theme, but the piece seems just vague enough where what I get may be different from someone else (that is a good thing).

I like the overall layout, fragmented but "cohesive". The only thing that felt a little out of place was the break between "grease" and "pumping". I'm not really sure why it sticks out in my mind, and I cannot recommend anything that would possibly alleviate this concern, so maybe it's just me.

Very nice overall. Definitely keep posting.