dead man cutthroat / rain
 

maybe

you're something in the rain
i could watch from the window
while i wonder in vain, why
there's nothing to show
for what we sustained. lakeside coming of age.
flesh sand water we change. praying mantis in chains
force of friction. rearrange into a palace. persuade
me to build another kingdom for your jesters to wave
king cobra cortical, tarantula brain
caffeinated coffee grounds, cremated remains
cutthroat calculated casanova common as grass
calcified chrysanthemum, a boulder to pass
kidney stone-age caveman dwell like poets of past
afraid to leave the stoop-kid if he happens to ask
how it came about. i'm happy now. i'm somewhere complete.
where i struggle to speak
that sentence through the tongue in my cheek.
jawbone carving chisel like a muscled physique
throwing rocks in the creek. skipping surface ripple release
your face reminds me of weeks. seconds hours and days
i was hourly wage. you were salaries and 401k's
i was out of excuses, you were out to engage
via chorus lines of shit you heard your counselor say.
sinkhole mud scummy centipede who crawled to escape
a falling grenade. oscillating. i'm a fan with a blade
cutthroat calibre chromatic light revolvers ablaze
six-shot barrel-rolling oiled leather holster the waist
wasteland apotheosis slowly sink into shade
skin bubbles black vampiric fangs constricting your veins
quasi-author, sole creation: my cathartic enslavement
plaster mache mock machismo. masked marauder in pain
heart and mind and gene design, the home of the bravest
paper walls, when nature calls it's 1-800-INGRAIN
if you're something in the rain
i can silently soak
and harbor insecurities we tied to the boat
i'd rather burn than choke. rather paddle than float
while you watch me from your window -
egoism, she wrote





DEADMAN

calcified chrysanthemum, a boulder to pass
kidney stone-age caveman dwell like poets of past

throwing rocks in the creek. skipping surface ripple release

a falling grenade. oscillating. i'm a fan with a blade


dope shit, these lines stood out most

keep that pen moving!

Great read. Particularly loved this section:

i'm happy now. i'm somewhere complete.
where i struggle to speak
that sentence through the tongue in my cheek.
jawbone carving chisel like a muscled physique
throwing rocks in the creek. skipping surface ripple release
your face reminds me of weeks. seconds hours and days
i was hourly wage. you were salaries and 401k's
i was out of excuses, you were out to engage
via chorus lines of shit you heard your counselor say.

Cimm.

Black,

Happy Holidays

The rhythm of this was excellent man, that beginning segment was perfect aloud. Lots of dope lines but this one was resonant:

quasi-author, sole creation: my cathartic enslavement

tough.

struggle to speak through... the tongue in my cheek/your face reminds me of weeks... i was hourly wage -- those parts struck me. i feel like you're writing more like you, which is great to see.

Gay.

thanks everybody!

dope shit dope ending

look at the comments - who can feel what you wrote on a deeper level except maybe eng so far...oatmeal understands cartharsis thru writing can't resonate with the rest. Lars sees and appreciates dope imagery but all he wants to do is write pirate epics and get into bar fights.

Looking at trees, missing the forest

"lakeside coming of age" - this seems so simple, but the imagery is deep and full of interpretable memory. With these four words, you've plucked the chord on whatever summer camp heartbreak your reader recalls. The emotion is universal.

the verse was super impressive, but this little line really affected me. this was striking work - very fun to read.

This was impressive. I also detected a humorous undertone, satirical underpinning. Also since I'm from Chicago I get all the street references you use. All the subtle Chicago-isms. Chicago is the greatest city on earth.

In short, this was sick. dead man your one of a kind!

I ain't ready for this... I'll edit it once my minds right for this.

Flow is dope tho. Reminds me of Aesop rock... I'll edit soon...