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Array ( [sid] => 57138 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Tanked [time] => 2004-07-22 07:01:46 [hometext] => [bodytext] => There is an ambiance to the Inn.

The rustic décor and a line
of motorcycles
parked curbside.

The old man, sips his scotch
at the end of the bar.
Sawdust spread over
the splintered floor,
covers plywood patches,
soaks up spilt booze.

Loud music blares,
rhythm out of sync
with the beat.

Cool breezes blow
through the door,
college boys in country club dress,
take a walk
to the other side.

Smoked glass mirror
distorts reflection,
cigarette smog hangs,
halo lights glow.
Green algae tints
the aquarium glass,
piranha drift in water,
bikers swim in beer.

Goldfish splash
in the fish bowl,
preppies slosh
around the bar.

Feeding time, happy hour.

Bubbles float,
drip, drop,
lava lamp.

A push, a shove, a punch.
Strobe and black-light flash.
A frenzy, a fury, a fight.
Big fish eat little fish,

ashes burn and tarnish.

Jukebox rust drips in the air,
blood stains
the sawdust floor.

The catfish stick to the bottom
the old man sits in the corner
drunk.

[comments] => 3 [counter] => 174 [topic] => 43 [informant] => pvd [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 32 [ratings] => 7 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )

Tanked

Contributed by pvd on Thursday, 22nd July 2004 @ 07:01:46 AM in AEST
Topic: oops

There is an ambiance to the Inn.

The rustic décor and a line
of motorcycles
parked curbside.

The old man, sips his scotch
at the end of the bar.
Sawdust spread over
the splintered floor,
covers plywood patches,
soaks up spilt booze.

Loud music blares,
rhythm out of sync
with the beat.

Cool breezes blow
through the door,
college boys in country club dress,
take a walk
to the other side.

Smoked glass mirror
distorts reflection,
cigarette smog hangs,
halo lights glow.
Green algae tints
the aquarium glass,
piranha drift in water,
bikers swim in beer.

Goldfish splash
in the fish bowl,
preppies slosh
around the bar.

Feeding time, happy hour.

Bubbles float,
drip, drop,
lava lamp.

A push, a shove, a punch.
Strobe and black-light flash.
A frenzy, a fury, a fight.
Big fish eat little fish,

ashes burn and tarnish.

Jukebox rust drips in the air,
blood stains
the sawdust floor.

The catfish stick to the bottom
the old man sits in the corner
drunk.

Copyright Â© pvd ... [ 2004-07-22 07:01:46]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Tanked (User Rating: 1 )
by AspenGlow on Thursday, 22nd July 2004 @ 08:46:19 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

This old man, sits in a chair, listening to the music blare....long ago and too far to reach..now ain't life just a walk on the beach.

Another one I liked, thanks for sharing.

Re: Tanked (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Thursday, 22nd July 2004 @ 08:54:44 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Um, yeah. A walk on the beach . . ?

Anyway - rhyming commentators aside, this was a neat tale of bikers vs. college boys in a visually outstanding environment.

YOu do have a way with words . . .

Re: Tanked (User Rating: 1 )
by wray on Saturday, 24th July 2004 @ 10:50:21 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Now I've got AspenGlow's words to the music of "this old man he played 3 he played knick-knack on my knee etc" running around in my head..... Hope this person comments on some of my work one day lol..

But this was an interesting poem. Somehow the comparison between drunks and goldfish disturbed me, possibly because the poem offers no explanation for why this is, or the purpose/direction of such a peculiar image. But I'm started to see that this is your style, and it's deliberate. Very ... very disturbing. Very.

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