sitting on the table looking with blind eyes through the smoke,
from time to time groaning faintly.
People disappeared,
reappeared, made plans to go somewhere,
then lost each other,
searched for each other,
found each other a few feet away.
Some time toward midnight
Tom Buchanan and Mrs. Wilson stood face to face
discussing in impassioned voices...
Why did you choose this as your poem?
ReplyDeleteI felt me and the dog had somewhat of a relationship when surrounded by poeple who smoke
Deletedo you discuss in impassioned voices alot?
ReplyDeleteDo you think people could go through life without knowing people they are always around
ReplyDelete@raul no it makes life so difficult
DeleteDerick, is there a parrallel between the passage and you?
ReplyDeleteyes i feel that the dog is just about as confused as i am when i cant see through smoke?
Deleteno i do not speek in impassioned voicews it just seems weird?
ReplyDelete