Nobody reads the writing in here.

Short Stories and Poetry

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Nobody reads the writing in here.

Postby Jack » Mon Dec 05, 2005 6:24 pm

-This Morning I’m Crying Over A Girl I Don’t Even Know-

I have burned the bridges and cut off jeans.
On a scene where the plywood bends and the actors collapse.

Color it resolved now. She can hesitate over ground
swelling large and proud
sticking out from the backs of classrooms
and spilling yr thoughts back at you before you can even think them.

Kill me in the morning with the eyes
you were too drowsy to shake awake.
You had this slip cover
covering chairs and clutching yr knees
to yr chest under a blanket.

Throw me away in the night while you drink
and I will drink
and I will drink.
I want to look at you with the veins in the white behind my glasses
cut there by a scalpel and straining to release
the colored and muddy thoughts I assemble
between great and weighty drags on cigarettes and marijuana pipes.

She grabs my arm and tells me I look like yr exboyfriend
until the wine gets to her and she passes out
right as I am leaving the party
to sit with drag queens and cheaper beer
where I can sing as loud as I want,
lacking time to care.

And I can call you once
and I can call you twice
and hear on the other end the beeps and hisses
coming from computers, fax machines, yr mother’s respirator.
The improper nature of my mechanical hands
that move in precise rhythm and keep time
across the surface of the skin on yr leg
like I’m playing a song,
always playing a song.
I was born a bastard - and then I just got worse.
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Jack
 
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Postby sapphirerose » Tue Dec 06, 2005 2:42 pm

If it's not already a song, it should be.
Very good stuff Jack.
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Postby jinx » Sat Dec 24, 2005 11:47 am

yeah no shit...damn Jack.
That was very,very good.
eternal life is now on my trail.....


Enjoy every minute. There's plenty of time to be dead.
jinx
tickle me psycho
 
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