rough draft: visiting downtown for dinner

glistening wet pavement
thick, moving slightly underfoot.
scrape shoes on the dry cement after
the smoking barflies complain about the city.

freezing cold breeze
thin, silk skirt letting up a draft.
stopping traffic, men comment, hair askew
each bench assures safety, relatively unnoticed anymore.

tired faded pages
slowly, absorbing every word.
this time, concentration interrupted by passerby
a man with a dog and a strong love for ginger hair.

short text message
finally, he's being let out.
waiting on a bench across from the office
jumping from one to another - a new text - "late!"

big bike race
whistling, they whoop and wave.
they pass 3 times during the wait
impatience for the officer is growing steadily.

tall shaggy boy
uniformed, he lights up.
the big bike passes yet again
he grabs and kisses passionately, like an old movie.

passionately they whistle, whoop and wave.

ezra pound - in a station of the metro

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

i love this. i haven't read much by pound, but the images created with this are just fantastic. i've tried writing stuff this short; actually have managed to distill something down to one sentence (which i'm proud of) but i haven't successfully done it again yet.

it's so hard to write anything with few words because it's so easy to miss what the writer is trying to say. i guess that's why when i write it's so wordy, lengthy. i think it's harder for me to be short because i want to say what i want without being misconstrued, but also to not be too obvious (or else what's the fun in reading/writing?!). and also, just because love i words so much, as cheesy as that sounds. i want to use as many interesting words as often as i can -- which also makes it hard for me to not be convuluted.