We walked the street without a care
in the world, me and Daisy. Daisy
and I. We talked
about Nirvana
and Aphex Twin,
philosophy and poetry.
Every road that spewed into us;
we ignored. That was the last day to live.
We carried on walking that road,
walking and talking
until we stopped
and realised.
We walked across the street.
Not a care. We walked across the street.
We didn’t fall. We walked.
A very interesting concept. circle poems- kind of like a figure 8, something worth doing on its own- not used as a vehicle for anything else. i dig your style in this one. expression for the sake of expression is all any poet should strive for. a beautiful piece, thanks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so every line has the potential to be the first line or the last line? Exit and entry. Interesting... It seems to work in this poem. I'm impressed.