Last night I watched a dozen firefighters casually remove a dead man from the subway platform over exchanged jokes and giggling girls. Sometimes I need a form to contain a too messy moment. The cinquain was the only form I could totally remember offhand.
Cinquain for the Ride Home
Late night lonely blond smiles pretty over the dead man's frame
Firefighter on the other side grins a good old boy grin
Throws a white sheet down, and tying up the limp feet asks her name
No blood contortion crooked white cotton shrouded-- it's always the same
Just want the train to come, get back on his truck, make good of her skin
Saturday, April 10, 2010
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