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Untitled Poem, 2002-10-19, by Triple Entendre

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Oct. 13th, 2004 | 05:25 am

I was a kid when playgrounds were still dangerous
forged of cast iron
and flaking paint
warm from the sun
like you

spinning around fast and faster
the world blurs green and brown
and tries to throw you off

no one can get on again
until it stops
until no one pushes
for a while

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Comments {7}

Triple Entendre

Playground

from: triple_entendre
date: Oct. 14th, 2004 02:07 am (UTC)
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Thank you. Some very intense emotions went into its creation.

I won't do an exegesis, but I'll mention a couple of things that might be of interest:

- It's about a girl.

- It's not very nice.

Which is partly why it has gone untitled—the meaningful titles I considered all either constrained the poem or changed its tone. "Playground" fits perfectly, thanks. I will use that. (I had tried lots of the words that appear in the poem as titles, even "playgrounds", but as a title, the plural has a very different feeling and meaning.)

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