"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Street sense

Day Nine: Write a noir-inspired poem.

There's nothing that can't
be turned on its head
in this city - nothing that is
above the pull of the dirty
and the desperate. How
to deny the depth of its
charm, then? How to reach
outside the confines borne
on the opaque comfort
of obscurity? How indeed!
But it is worth asking, if not
to rescue ourselves from the
grit and steam, then to keep
from rolling any further down
into the grime of the gutter.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Circa Survive, Stop the Car

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