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Friday, February 20, 2009

Blind Review Friday

Blind Review Friday.

The author shall remain anonymous (unless they chose to divulge themselves in the comments.)

Those commenting are also welcome to remain anonymous if they wish.

Incendiary comments will be removed.

If you would like your piece thrown to the wolves send it to salinger@ameritech.net with "Workshop the hell out of this poem" as the subject line.



This week's offfering is from a Clevelandpoetics - the Blog reader:



cleveburg ‘67

chopper parked angling curbside greaser dangling
over chromium handlebars black leather jacketed hippie
turning on to the scene
teeny-bopping blonde cutie in black leather flares
smoking reclining against the cool bar wall
frock you store open-doored and full
leather goods hats dresses feathers
head shop full of shoppers
looking for love and its talisman
mannequins standing colored bright
looking out at a turned off world
multi-colored dresses illuminated
smiling lovers of the shop
gave a rose to a cop
no bag baby walking hangup
unhip to the happenings of love
flaking off false turnings on
busting into a turned on crowd
went to a blast dumb as hell
and met a junkie loving fun
child-like woman full of sunshine
digging him up and down the pad
blasting on a madcap freakout

    love in be in lagoon happening
    seven hundred record sunday hippies
    tourists dancing singing children
    music floating on the backs of ducks
    floating on water walking running
    jumping playing happy being
    fuzz harassing busting mugging
    sun came through shining
    love line through crowd twining
    books candy records posters
    fill the shop and give it life
    head shop for a swinging set
    coffeehouse hangers speaking soft tones
    of understanding across metal ashtrays
    on coffee stained tables
    while players pinball happy
    run up colored lights to score
    for more rings and extra balls


1 comment:

Runechris said...

I like the first several lines especially.. and the second half...

Cited...

The poet doesn't invent. He listens. ~Jean Cocteau