mexico city blues

[Just Write]

ok my man, I've been meaning to hit this up proper just have been busy till now

Originally Posted by Split Eight

[blues intensifies]

clothbound notebooks opened. Robert Johnson
didn't note the jots in- stitched time. jogging mountains
it's still there. true Paradise, Sal. you couldn't picture,
paint, or scribble air inside my mestizo Santa Misirlou

you always start your pieces in the most unique way, (oddball rhyme scheme or whatever) but it really does work for you, this opening already had me hooked and interested which for me is hard to do, usually i feel more obligated to finish reading a piece then interested

sitting sullen, mexico city simmers blue.
sambuca= mean drunk to you. the love i mean
seductive sexist. autistic fucking Buddy Holly resemblance
but instead i grooves it, steppin through this
harmonic bible of dharma-buddhists.

this was clean, loved the sambuca line doggy

mood is often tone deaf. cigarette spit,
crisply cogent. nope, it's..
sitting slack. gulping flask. fixing to be feeling razzed.
Whitman. Pullman cabs. waltz n jazz, volley of Misty Blue-
tenor, drawling sax. San Francisco valley ballyhoo
who blast different slit-throat trolley tunes.

ill, that 3rd and 4th line was crispy

oye como escito, y servesa, la necesito..
porque alegra ha me despedida: cuando
ella me da su vida. me encante mi mes contiga,
pero estoy aqui y a ti acá. blanca camisa en la cama madera.
es vida, y sera como esta. aun hablamos en la musica.
que lastima de corazon.

the fuck?

the moon is luminously bright.
truly, her eyes are nice. my direction. i'm crusing by, touching
horizon ice- the compass, Rose. tonight is diamond dosed.
then finding life is just another sunken, lump of coal.
time.
she measured it in sloppy, morning dew. record skips.
couple sips of coffee boost. thirty of, a nothing night with you.

too noir for Kerouac.
a different age. it was greater grace then any song I blare or blast
and thinner than the coarsest page, passage filled with her barefoot pawprints, i caught her after,
kissing honest tunes in her barest stockings, intoxicated, lost in the missing chapter of our jaded absolute

the whole remainder of this verse was my favorite part, very poetic

your style is very different then everyone else ive seen on here, i mean hell sometimes you don't even rhyme but it still comes off with that elegant poetic tone to it so it rarely matters, I can say this I definitely never know what to expect from you when i open a drop of your but i'm also always eager to open them. keep writing man and don't change shit. this might be my favorite piece from you.. for now. stay up