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literature
Raindrops
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Literature Text
I am exhausted because writing
Exhausts the spirit
The way tornadoes wear out the wind.
I fall to sleep and my thoughts
Are a bed of pebbles
Soaking up the rain of sentience.
We welter together
—My thoughts and me—
We slip away
With the lazy weather.
Then work comes
With grinding wheels
And coughing machines,
To fill dreamstreets with cold humidity,
With soot and oil and leathery boots.
Further down —far past
The industrial avenues—
The coffee vendors with their poppy bagels,
A crowd or two,
Seedy strangers with unmovable expressions,
And a few street girls hustling for sugar
—No doubt to fill their little cups.
I flag
A sun-colored cab down
To the docks
That face Hoboken.
I stretch
My hand to write the river Hudson.
I am the poem and
My heart pumps
With raindrops.
Exhausts the spirit
The way tornadoes wear out the wind.
I fall to sleep and my thoughts
Are a bed of pebbles
Soaking up the rain of sentience.
We welter together
—My thoughts and me—
We slip away
With the lazy weather.
Then work comes
With grinding wheels
And coughing machines,
To fill dreamstreets with cold humidity,
With soot and oil and leathery boots.
Further down —far past
The industrial avenues—
The coffee vendors with their poppy bagels,
A crowd or two,
Seedy strangers with unmovable expressions,
And a few street girls hustling for sugar
—No doubt to fill their little cups.
I flag
A sun-colored cab down
To the docks
That face Hoboken.
I stretch
My hand to write the river Hudson.
I am the poem and
My heart pumps
With raindrops.
Comments31
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I like how most all the stanzas are set up like waves, but when work is mentioned there is no indentations to further emphasize how closed and not free work is compared to outside, the docks and everything else.