Thursday, July 26, 2007

Country Mouse

Pistons are racing gears and chewing exhaust is streaming into the air trees zip past windows whistling small swooshes that synchronize with the streetlights biting as teeth of a zipper sewing together the highway.
Breaks. Cease. Shut.
Empty. Faces. Stare.
Door. To door. To door.
No greens. No Yellows. Reds.
Exhaust. Clouds. Chokes.
Dissipates. Fades. Diffuses.
Back into the air.

4 Comments:

Blogger Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

I loved the different metering in this. The first half is very much the rhythm of an steadily paced journey. The second half is kind of: Stop. Slam Door. Go to venue. etc....

Love it.

1:20 AM  
Blogger m. said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

1:01 PM  
Blogger m. said...

I get as sense that the speaker is bitter about the journey; the irreverant blur of images is nauseating to the extent that the snail-crawl of mishap and inconvenience is numbing. I think that this is very, very well written.

1:02 PM  
Blogger eric1313 said...

I like the circular construction of the content; the "chewing" (good/unusual verb choice) exhaust streaming into the air at the beginning as they race along the road, diffusing back into indistinguishable nothingness at the end, as the racer is held still, grinding gears at a stop, waiting for that red light to turn green and it begins again.

Interesting title, too.

2:42 AM  

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