I'll Take the Stairs: A Poem
Can you see?
What depths of bleak
Sadness
Despair
defeated, crushed like Hector
We are saved
(A warrior comes!)
Mercenary, Ronin
Hands grasping, grinding
A thunderbolt, California night
The ocean cracks and drains
The beard (glistens)
Santa Ana whispers, glistening
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Game 4
Santa Ana winds
swirling above Chavez Ravine
rendered to embers
the familiar scripted houses
of mass-broadcast, supposed-to-be fame.
When it all burned clean
Left standing was the bearded guy
Substantial; well traveled
Coining the new currency
of fame. Redemption.
Honest earning. Of hard luck turned.
The ball carried deep to right. In this new America
It has yet to land.
Whoa
Most esoteric content ever on this site!
by David S. Cohen on Oct 14, 2008 11:06 AM EDT reply actions
Bulletin Board material
"I need to do a better job of putting players in the right position to perennially come up short of expectations"
I suppose I’d like it a bit more if the santa anas weren’t whipping up some nasty ass fires right now :)
by jemagee on Oct 14, 2008 7:47 PM EDT reply actions

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