manic walk like a spider on two legs throwing himself forward at the world. 92, and a character - would still fuck the pretty girls if he could if that part of him hadn't died already. grey stubble on a wrinkled face language pyrotechnic voice like a rockslide what a guy. but he still falls like the rest of us when i catch him one in the face grab his wallet and watch without rolling him over to see if he bleeds like us too.
I like it. Would be nice to see a second draft. I bet this would be great if it had more of a rhythm. Something like John Cooper Clarke
Me too. I love the idea here. You paint a good picture. I would like to see you work on it a bit more to improve the flow. When read out loud, it seems a little jumpy.
'he still falls like the rest of us', eh... this poem rocked for me...maybe because it was close to home, minus the victim's years (hee hee) but solid scribblin' all around, chopper, you have talent and, as the irish say, "a fine fist for writing"...i'm off to read some more of your posts...
Yeah, keep writing, you've got some good ideas bumping around your head. You've a tendancy for darkness, too.
