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Array ( [sid] => 146257 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Spectors, Spektors, etc. [time] => 2008-11-11 19:21:38 [hometext] => [bodytext] => A calico cat with a fettered blue collar meets me on the deserted street. From out of her hunkered position, underneath the sepia-tone gleam of the street lamp, she imposes herself onto the sidewalk and into my company. Her uncovered eyes pierce through the darkness and into mine, and I meet her stare until she disappears again, bounding behind a swath of freshly mowed grass, and back into the specter of the city night. I am

Alone but I can still feel the cat eyes searing through me, dissecting me, exposing me. I can feel the lingering gaze warm my skin, barely, as light as the first light touch of the sun on your skin after a thunderstorm. As light as the first light air that moves toward you over the sea and barely wrinkles the glassy surface of a calm. As light as......

Darkness. I hear a heart-stabbing sound and I turn around-the night is playing tricks with my senses and I can't tell what's real. I think I hear footsteps. I think I see movement. I think it just got colder. My eyes strain through the night to find something, but all I can make out between the distant slits of light is a barcode of shadows. I want to call out. I want to be discovered. But my words cantilever on the edge of my lips like a potential suicide. Should they jump and be free or stay and endure? Does it matter? It's nothing.

And I'll continue my walk amongst the silhouettes of the trees, crunching the brittle leaves beneath my feet, listening to Regina sing about Pavlov's daughter. Her words like a tributary swelling into my drink of disillusionment. I'm quenched. I'm ready. I'm simply an escapist, a nomadic pedestrian, trying to find something to cling to in the shadows of my own fiction.... [comments] => 0 [counter] => 182 [topic] => 43 [informant] => proudestmonkey [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
Spectors, Spektors, etc.

Contributed by proudestmonkey on Tuesday, 11th November 2008 @ 07:21:38 PM in AEST
Topic: oops



A calico cat with a fettered blue collar meets me on the deserted street. From out of her hunkered position, underneath the sepia-tone gleam of the street lamp, she imposes herself onto the sidewalk and into my company. Her uncovered eyes pierce through the darkness and into mine, and I meet her stare until she disappears again, bounding behind a swath of freshly mowed grass, and back into the specter of the city night. I am

Alone but I can still feel the cat eyes searing through me, dissecting me, exposing me. I can feel the lingering gaze warm my skin, barely, as light as the first light touch of the sun on your skin after a thunderstorm. As light as the first light air that moves toward you over the sea and barely wrinkles the glassy surface of a calm. As light as......

Darkness. I hear a heart-stabbing sound and I turn around-the night is playing tricks with my senses and I can't tell what's real. I think I hear footsteps. I think I see movement. I think it just got colder. My eyes strain through the night to find something, but all I can make out between the distant slits of light is a barcode of shadows. I want to call out. I want to be discovered. But my words cantilever on the edge of my lips like a potential suicide. Should they jump and be free or stay and endure? Does it matter? It's nothing.

And I'll continue my walk amongst the silhouettes of the trees, crunching the brittle leaves beneath my feet, listening to Regina sing about Pavlov's daughter. Her words like a tributary swelling into my drink of disillusionment. I'm quenched. I'm ready. I'm simply an escapist, a nomadic pedestrian, trying to find something to cling to in the shadows of my own fiction....




Copyright © proudestmonkey ... [ 2008-11-11 19:21:38]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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