Poem

Feb 01, 2008 - 17:22 PM PST
In one of my classes, we were supposed to pick random lines from the Illustrated Man and put them together to create a poem, so here it goes...

He had smoked a packet of cigarettes in two hours.
"Goodnight," she said.
He cried all night in his sleep.
He listened to the dry-grass rustle of the old witches' voices.
There were fireworks the very first night.
The cooling afternoon rain had come over the valley.
When they heard the news they came out of the restaurants.
They walked into the city.
The rain continued. It was a hard rain, a perpetual rain.
The electrical fireflies were hovering above.
Fire exploded over summer night lawns. You saw sparkling.
The wind blew sand over his shoes, whining.
The first illustration quivered and came to life...
again...and again...and again...
Slowly, pleasurably, the city enjoyed the luxury of dying.
Before morning, I would reach the town.
Blackness, falling while I watched.
"We'll see what we can do about that," someone said.

The exercise was actually pretty interesting, because it makes me think of a nightmare that someone is having, but end with some sort of hope...for the nightmare? For humanity? I think it adds something to the original reading that I did of the Illustrated Man. Anyone else have any theories? Has anyone done something similar with this or other readings?

Poem


Channel | 51 Views | 2 Comments
     

2 Comments

Feb 08, 2008 - 19:44 PM

EZChill75 on
"The rain continued. It was a hard rain, a perpetual rain." Good stuff..
Feb 02, 2008 - 12:20 PM

s5572x on
that's really neat. i like it.