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Deflation During Commute

Suburban Warfare.
Dread of painted, cleansed brown box.
Sing bright angst and run.
Streets wave thick daring white flags.
No hope for peace or loving.

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This entry was posted on April 4, 2011, 9:33 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

  1. #1 by Jamie Dedes on April 4, 2011 - 11:49 pm

    Wonderful tanka. Well done. … Let’s hope there’s some hope! 🙂

    Reply

    • #2 by Carl on April 5, 2011 - 7:15 am

      Thank you – I’m not sure I am doing the form properly, but form is helping me conserve. There would be huge hope if I could stop having to commute!

      Reply

  2. #3 by Evelyn on April 5, 2011 - 9:10 pm

    “Dread of painted, cleansed brown box.”
    this reminds me of those electricity boxes always painted weird colors.

    Reply

    • #4 by Carl on April 5, 2011 - 10:52 pm

      That is wonderful. I like your vision!

      Reply

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