The Automat

cor! the lady She
outgo's the wind
down the aisle
and around the bend!

into the automat
She perches --
sunglow cloche upon
her head.

looking down
at saucer and cup,
the incandescent glow
hovering aloof.

desolate boulevard,
outstretched yonder;
Her name Melancholy
She's sitting alone.

Reviews

[Pryde Foltz]

desolate boulevard,
outstretched yonder;
Her name Melancholy
She's sitting alone.

For some reason, I saw our poor damsel setting asea in a boat made for one. Again masterful rhythm.

[Mr.Boffin]

thanks :) I hadn't thought of that before, but now I can definitely picture it!

[RockStep]

I like the contrast of the language formality vs. description of something mundane. Paints a simple but effective picture of loneliness.