'He’s thinking in another language
now, hitch-hiker thumb jerking
toward the city spilled from its grid. '
That was brilliant. The clash of orderliness and spontanaeity...nice, man. Loads of people try to get that effect but can't, so high fives for all.
' I recite
and lift his palm, longitude by latitude.'
Very confusing. Might make sense to someone else...but not me. The longitude and latitude is nice, but the 'I recite' is a bit clichèd, so I'd opt for something a bit more...er...catchier.
'It’s the dying season and I cannot
leave his wound alone.'
What is it with you and genius last lines?!? Help me out!
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140,590 Literary Works • 673,544 Reviews
Gosh I didn't get it but I still liked it.
Hm....:wonders who is the "he":
Pretty good, although it takes a while to understand all your references. But one scan should never make it easy and it's some good work...again.
Now go read something I wrote. Haha. Just kidding. Please?
I have a feeling it's one of those poems you take from something that happened and you drape it with fancy words... but you still leave enough so we sort of know what's going on. Sort of. I didn't really like it too much...