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this thing is obnoxiously (i think) narrative. Even after dinking around with it for a couple of years i can't seem to talk it into being anything else.


Sunday Afternoon 3:30 to 3:31

A tumbleweed Coke can clunks down the street
while bus-stop tired eyes gaze to
the water-spotted sidewalk, Grey
and darker grey, just like the sky.
A red neon SUSHI sign
Flashes
In a dark window, Opposite
the direction the bus is to come.
The church on the corner
Wears yellow caution tape
around its fire scorched entrance and
A three-legged dog, ignoring the warning
relieves himself there, while his man
With a red vinyl shopping bag and
Black umbrella waits, his head bowed.
A skateboard riding youth
Sssssizzles
Past the SUSHI shop and
The bus-stop tired eyes follow his
silhouette …….. Till a diesel rumble
Sets them to shuffling towards the curb
One
Behind
The
Other.
Cigarettes tossed,
Their Red Embers
Fade in the rain
As the bus pulls away.

laurie,
this poem reminds me of the times when the details just jump out at you,
and you wonder,"how is it i never noticed that before"and the bus stop is really a perfect setting for this.bravo!
saluté´
elazar

Laurie, as I read and re-read this piece, I kept getting an image in my mind of a street corner at 8:00 am each morning. Then I remembered it was the recurring theme in the Harvey Kietel movie, 'Smoke'
Your bus-stop is as important an individual as any person there, because without that 'device' the whole poem would fall over in a lopsided way. The movie was built around the street corner where everyones' lives met, intersected and moved on, both physically and emotionally. You've created a moment which is now meant for ever. Lovely. Thanks.

elazar/Byron~grazie to you both. I guess i will just consider it "done" and quit playing with it. In other words, i will just put this poem on the bus and bid it adieu.
On another subject, being new around here it has been obvious there is some "history" and behind the scenes (and on the stage) animosity being played out around this forum. I realize these forums take on the life of a Village over time and not everyone will get along as in Real Life. I have the feeling that the little "clique" that has formed here on the poetry section is adding to some extent to the irritation of those already irritated with some aspects of this arena. Right, wrong or inbetween I don't feel comfortable around here for now. So, it's been great to meetcha elazar. Byron, Georges, etc the poems have been fun and inspiring. I gotta step back from this place for now. cheers, laurie

dONT LEAVE YOU WERE LIKE A BREATH OF FRESH AIR.................
gEORGES

Laurie, Put the poem on the bus if you must. But please remain on the corner as the bus pulls away. Smoking a cigarette. Poignant image.

laurie,
i couldnt say it any better then ves,so ~
saluté
elazar

Thank you elazar!