Vibrations increase in intensity,a hum that’s getting deeper and more persistent,building a steady crescendo towards broken expectations.
The records stops at 3.32 amwhen the dead of night roars at its loudest.
A solitary figure on the sidewalk with green hazy eyeswalks one slow step at a time, looking for a silence that’s a foreign conceptto her shady mind, ever restless.
An ex-girlfriend of your husband?
ReplyDeleteSweet Jesus. This is amazing.
ReplyDelete"building a steady crescendo towards broken expectations" ... That's kind of like every day of being alive, isn't it?
"The records stops" ... You have a typo here, but I kind of like it. It trips me up and makes me wonder at all the possibilities. A record playing. Documenting records. Plural or singular. Either way, something vital is ceasing.
I love the "her" at the end. To me, the hazy figure could be a man who wishes he could find a silence, a peace ... but her mind won't let him. OR, the shady figure could be a part of her. She's segmented and writhing over her different parts constantly at war.
Really, I absolutely adore this poem. You are an excellent poet.
hello shadow its dennis the vizsla dog hay hoo is that green eyed lady??? is she a vampire??? a vampire hoo has reesently left a danse hall??? i wil hav to tel dada to be kayrful wen he leevs the danse stoodio at nite!!! ok bye
ReplyDeleteHey, I got green eyes as well.
ReplyDeleteNever found much on friday nights though that did much more than
dull the senses, maybe the voices - just a bit. Til the next morning.
But it makes for a nice escape - for just a bit.
"building a steady crescendo towards broken expectations"
ReplyDeleteYou've captured that solitary Friday night feeling perfectly here. Senses dulled, the tired week behind you, an exhausting week before your feet. Perfect.