Completely unedited. I'm posting it for critiques on the general feel of it, and also for advice on where to improve and how to change this. It is wholly unfinished.
I would really love and appreciate some creative input on this piece.
(La Brea = a tarpit in California.)
(Projectile disjunction = the seperation of a projectile from it's shootie bit.)
(Consumption as in the old name for TB.)
ink like bullets and a pen like a gun
a duet something like a projectile disjunction
with a physique carved from stones as hard
as early on-set erectile disfunction
accompanied by lungs held under ribs
that're doubley as bloody as twin leeches
in the death-throes of consumption
coughing up La Brea along with
my original presumptions
like it was going out of style
wild-eyed and terrified by the idea
that a life full of forward movement
and a few years spent grasping at transcendence
could bear fruit so similar to nothingness
as quickly as it takes a crackhead to settle
on a more literal projectile disjunction
deciding to point a cut of metal at my chest
and end this
I've been dreaming of being stabbed every night for two weeks.
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