Thanks Patricia. It is always: Thanks Patricia. It is always a privilege to hear your esteemed review and estimation of what has been offered here before our august collaborative venue for online poetry. Your encouragement is truly invaluable at developing and growing fertile fields for thought and expression and the sharing thereof!
I'm always stunned, in the: I'm always stunned, in the best way, by the innovation, the razor-sharpness, of your wordplay. It's poetic gymnastics worthy of a gold medal. Applause!
we are what we are:
crazes
that become stylish, then fashionable, and---
finally---normative
…
abetted and enabled by towering technology
founded on the lowest motives and moralities
That alone, tells us, what sort of egregious gorillas we are at heart.
And the seething wreath of flame, in the rear-view mirror – is our own profound ignorance… on a multi-stage burn, propelling us on the very same projectory.
No doubt, we’d be a menace, wherever we hovered.
~/~
Oh the fun... without sheep: Oh the fun... without sheep count boxcars! I was half expecting a riling morality narrative from the famed Boxcar Kids type novels. 12 or a 112 at midnight! Good choice for posting. And quite honoured at such graciousness. A success in putting together a railroad element with many other elements and themes so they interplayed intuitively.
A box with a keyhole, like: A box with a keyhole, like that top drawer in Peter Pan will allow the eye without lids to see through just as Tinker Bell did, spying on Wendy. Oh but the sound of one speaking will reverb within the walls of said box. mmm...
Oh wow, just how many cities: Oh wow, just how many cities could there be! Makes one feel claustrophobic just reading about it. Poor Fred, at least he's got windshield spiderwebs that glint in the son!
Mores the pity for poems that: Mores the pity for poems that aren't shared with others and lay hidden to whatever fate Time has for them. Of course that is the choice of poets and the eventual executors of their estate should the poems survive after their time on Earth is done. Railroads are on a class of their own!
Oh but boast away. We only: Oh but boast away. We only had a one off trip across that city and I was quite impressed by the roads if not much else, that would be the most distinctive feature any city should have in a motoring world. We did feel safe driving around as we chased after the historical areas of interest, which we are wont to do when visiting other cities and places. It is gladdening in the heart that the poem stirred up such thoughts as not many of us have wholesome memories of childhood and fatherhood specifically, a lost vocation-art-privilege in our sadly rundown society. I am also thankful for the reconciliation that I and my father had, as much as we could muster over the last couple years of his life. Thanks kindly for sharing your journey (related to this topic) here.