by Michael Tusa
He is sitting in the infinite rain,
and the water is making him some infinite silhouette.
He has got his little legs crossed, and his little arms crossed,
and his hair is long and slowly untangling itself by weight of the drops.
Incessantly pushing, on and on, like little soldiers of sad,
pioneering their way from his head to his socks.
And the stop light is blinking,
and there is an uneasy wind.
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I think that was me!
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I like the images here and the juxtaposition of the stop light and uneasy wind, the anticipation of something about to happen. Good piece.
Damn good.
Incessantly infinitely blinking lovely.
Had to read this several times. There's such a feeling of incompletion here that gave me an unsettled feeling.
Then I realized - that's the point, the 'uneasy' bit.
I really like that feeling of unease. Nicely done.
You can tell how this threw me off balance by the poorly thought-out nature of the above comment!