[This one doesn't really go anywhere, but instead rather forcefully brings us back to the Anna Miller setting and the fanboy, so that the epic -- the direction of which we should discuss -- can progess. While I like lyrical poems, there's only so many of them that you can chain together before it becomes too static to be enjoyable.]

Watch the idol watch the rain,
smell the kitchen, wince in pain;
stir your coffee, drink it up,
watch the steam escape your cup.

Think of questions you might ask her,
to get to know her faster:
if a falcon caged by its defiance
refuses charity for self-reliance:
does it feed on bitter pride?

Shake off reverie, and wonder:
why did I hear a 'Zilla,
if all there was was thunder?


[ October 05, 2001: Message edited by: Quinn ]

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