Bronze Leaves
 

Bronze Leaves

It is a beautiful golden brown;
The autumn of this fucking town.
Like a special effect, the leaves
Are bronzing.
The contemplative nature of autumn
Leaves one wondering.

So I rejoice, in exceeding great joy
That this fucking town is golden brown.
The silver Volvos have a subtle serenity
That sincerely troubles me.
Personally, I like to sit on the porch
With a beer, and use my solar-powered brain
At sundown.

I am also in love with
Walking along the asphalted roads, next to the white sidelines.
And listening to voices blending into guitars, through headphones.
I love
The golden tint the world gets from the sun
The red-leaved trees especially.

He who contemplates, truly contemplates
Is a genius, in this lazy world.
I don’t pretend to be a genius
But I try my hand at
Contemplation and philosophy
Among the golden brown
Of this fucking town.

I like this alot Phap. Not a lot of masturbatory description going on here, it's simple. It's elegant IN its simplicity. I like the contrast of the appreciation of the beauty in a town that you may not enjoy so much. I like being thrown for a loop when you mention something out of nature in the midst of your praise of the autumnal colors (the volvos specifically). This is more of a classic sort of poem -- very nice!

Crowe, just for you, I'm gonna do a poem called "Phapping" about masturbating. Because I love you so much. Thanks for the praise :-)