someone great
 

never the eulogy speaker. god, I've had practice-
everyone you've ever met surmised in a commented passage.
you wouldn't have heard this prodigal cushion of verse,
and Adderall would work more to curb
this waterfall of Woodford Reserve
than some scattered call to Cara where I butcher the words.
bourbon's the best for that lexical haze.
slur through the chords when I fret the exchange.

end of an era. the endgame was an 'end of discussion'
--you couldn't have ended it, anyways, without unending dysfunction.
Simply gone, being ridden rots your ribbing raw,
drips in the coffin's finish, flawed,
but you couldn't tell the way the lid was propped.
Wincing off the rinsed response. Tip jar in a grim armoire.
I couldn't go so far as to catalogue the prints of Pops,
a nice heart in a dark room, stiller still than rolled film awash-
throwaway pictures littered the fridge, the whole kit collage.
If I could I'd love to let the emptiness breach
the unexpressed, in one collective resonance peak.
the incandescent in the midnight lamp sheds a mesmeric heat,
quoteless. smoke sesh, no captions affixed to faces in a jar--
despite your set perspective the labyrinth makes the Minotaur

Well written reflection. Melancholy repose, a nice mix of matter of fact and emotion, with flourishes of poetic creativity. Those flourishes restrained, though, less present than your usual style.

you wouldn't have heard this prodigal cushion of verse,
and Adderall would work more to curb
this waterfall of Woodford Reserve
than some scattered call to Cara where I butcher the words.
bourbon's the best for that lexical haze.
slur through the chords when I fret the exchange.

The last line is a perfectly executed wordplay, with every verb and noun a double entendre connected seamlessly. Cara's ambiguous to the reader, which is nice in a way.

end of an era. the endgame was an 'end of discussion'
--you couldn't have ended it, anyways, without unending dysfunction.

Nice use of repetition. Couplet flowed well, reading aloud.

drips in the coffin's finish, flawed,
but you couldn't tell the way the lid was propped.
Wincing off the rinsed response. Tip jar in a grim armoire.
I couldn't go so far as to catalogue the prints of Pops,
a nice heart in a dark room, stiller still than rolled film awash-
throwaway pictures littered the fridge, the whole kit collage.

Just excellent textering here. The subtle and subtly complex rhyme scheme never interfering with the content and mood you're wanting to get across. My favorite portion.

This was melancholy but not overly emotive, sappy. A good effect. Good, but different from your more eclectic stuff. Thanks for the read.

thank u, Cake

Amazing, again. It's interesting that you included the first paragraph as it read like an excuse to start writing. A literal description of the beginning of your writing protocol mixed with a current state of mind. Nothing wrong with it but all the meat is in the second paragraph. What meat you did share. The opening lines to the second paragraph were more poignant and eulogic than I could have imagined upon first read. The transition of thoughts and stringing of points in the relationship collaged together as this disfunctional picture was powerful and unique. Thank you.

damn. this was excellent. you getting snoozed on brother.
i hope this wasn't about ur actual dad, if so, sorry to hear homie

seemed legit. ur writing is smooth af. too many quotables. and u on that serious tip. aha i havent read or written anything in so long and this makes all my dumb raps feel super immature compared to you ahaa, bout to post a jot for fun that i had fun with cause its fun...and maybe ur dad died...fuck me.

"this waterfall of Woodford Reserve" ha ha ha very well said. For some reason that image made me chuckle. As always this is very imagery laden. But since it is a very personal matter it is tangible. Which sometimes you tend to be more abstract, but I feel like you have been trying to detour into the land of tangibility, as of late. But still keeping the poetic turns of phrase that demarcate your style.
I really enjoyed the various usages and implications of 'end' here.
"end of an era. the endgame was an 'end of discussion'
--you couldn't have ended it, anyways, without unending dysfunction."

I thought that part was very well thought out. My favorite line, besides the woodford reserve one, is "Wincing off the rinsed response. Tip jar in a grim armoire". That's just excellent.
I wasn't a fan of how you ended it though. I'm specifically drawing attention toward the last couplet. Now, there's nothing inherently wrong or bad about none of the two. But, how they link up and stand next to each other doesn't seem harmonious. There's something discordant with the arrangement of those ideas next to each other. The metaphoric utilization of the minotaur is an interesting finale.

Thank you though, I very much enjoyed the read.

will feed in the morrow