Still working on this piece. Something about it just feels important somehow. Like in a weird, spooky, premonition sort of way. Not entirely sure why.
I’m finding myself keeping an odd balance while I’m writing this, though. Since I’m used to speaking as “Blue” in most of my work, I’m trying hard not to take this poem to its umbrella meaning too quickly. The focus really needs to be The Man On The Tracks, I think, and I’m trying to keep the “camera” focused on him while still retaining a lot of the introspection that makes my style what it is. Sometimes I’ll find the language drifting higher and higher and I have to pull myself back to the tracks and keep the images concrete.
That being said, I really like this bit right here. I remember actually smiling to myself when I wrote the second stanza.