Splayed out
and dying
on the worn slats
of the living room floor
my Creativity
looked up at me
and with it's last breath
said
"I hate you".
I smiled and turned away.
The feeling was mutual.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
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1 comments:
I think with this poem you channel Crane even more than you do on the previous poem where you said you were trying. I like how in the poem creativity has left the speaker and since it has it cannot live anymore. The relief the speaker feels is quite comical. I've got to say that this is one of my favorites of yours; partially because I'm having trouble mustering humor in my poetry recently.
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