Saturday, August 13, 2011

Brooklyn Laundromat


Brooklyn Laundromat

Fish eye lens,
Distorts the view
Into the sudsy, white vortex.
Fluorescent drone overhead
Mixes with stubborn smells
Industry, old coffee, stale frying oil,
All adding to my stratocumulus angst.
Drops of sweat
Trickle down my back,
To my crack,
Soaking my shorts, stuck
To the red molded chair, bolted
To the concrete floor
Of the sweltering Brooklyn laundromat.


Word of the Day: pensive. (adj) thinking deeply or seriously, often of sad or melancholy things.

13 comments:

  1. Nice look at the city through the laundrymat. Very clever and well written.

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  2. Damn! That was amazing! So visceral.

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  3. I could really smell and hear everything that was going on - great poem !!

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  4. wow this was cool - love the fish eye lens start...great use of scents with Industry, old coffee, stale frying oil...can i smell it? yes and yes and yes...great write

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  5. i felt every word of that...and dang it is hot...you really create the atmosphere in this one...very nice...

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  6. Thanks for all the great feedback everyone. This poetry challenge was fun and very inspiring. I look forward to the next one.

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  7. ARRON SHILLING:


    Hey,

    Great to see you @ the bar.

    Your poem is fantastic...definately atmospheric.
    Some great word play and conceptual ellaborations which really penertrate and pick at the readers mind.

    I really enjoyed reading this piece and look forward to your next.

    Arron

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  8. Many's the time I've sat in one of those molded plastic chairs--you recreate the scene vividly, adding the textures of the locale like a painter word by brushstroke word. I esp like "stratocumulus angst.." That is just the last word on angst. ;_) Enjoyed it and glad you shared it with dVerse.

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  9. This is terrific-- your details pull is into that place, in that moment. This is what a good poem should do-- not speak in generalities but in particulars. !!! xxxj

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  10. I think this is an exceptional piece of writing, with such an incredible depiction of time and place.. your descriptions are so real, I could feel that trickle of sweat in the middle of a southern winter.

    Please feel free to share a poem with us on the Real Toads open link: http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/

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  11. Now, that's poetry I can appreciate.

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  12. I felt like I was there; amazing imagery! You did a wonderful job~

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  13. I enjoyed this poem very much. Almost felt the need to mop my brow. Wonderfully worded.

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