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Crippling By: Rachelle King on 12/17/2002; 8:06 PM Signs causing turbulence of conscience melt away with rain from inside this running car. Portals dropping dews reveal a silent black unveil flights of molecules not intact evacuating body, floating hurriedly through the side door vent. Each tiny vessel blossoms: human energy transforms to star dust nymphs. Like children untouched from society's discipline stomping in puddles throwing soggy tea leaves.
RE: Crippling By: Richard Davidson on 12/18/2002; 10:18 PM This poem makes me think of a train. I'm not sure why, but it does. A train in the rain, running hurriedly through Rachelle's unconscious, dripping words onto the website with tiny splashes. I think I like it!
RE: Crippling By: Rachelle King on 12/21/2002; 12:02 AM You think, huh? Well, thanks, Richard. It's always nice to get compliments from people whose writing I admire (It makes me feel so special--teehee). If your wondering about the simultaneous references to rain, it was due the torrential downpour of rain I just experienced last week while still living in Santa Barbara. I haven't seen rain like that in awhile and I guess it just "spoke to me." I had a creative itch to scratch, so to speak.
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