so most of you will have read this in the spring comp. i just wanted to post to get some feedback and overall opinions/suggestions. just a sentence or two will be quite enough. i'll return crits happily, as i have no life.

a balloon

spring comes and

matinee gloves, scarf and stockings
get put in the drawer


‘stop’, she says, ‘look.’
a caterpillar weaves itself slowly
into a golden cocoon under the moonlight.
she tosses her head back
and whispers drunkenly,
‘god, it’s so damn beautiful...
don’t you think?’

‘it’s,’ i pause with my lips pursed,

i think it’s probably given up
on any romanticized
majestic unfurling of the wings,
any blinking against an explosion
of sunlight and colour,
adulating stares
i think it’s probably curling up
against the cold, waiting to die,
knowing that if/when
its last breath
slips between those strands of silk
that it will dissipate
and eventually be nothing.

‘ugh, i knew you wouldn’t!’ she moans.
‘why do you always have to be so bleak?’
she turns from me with her arms outstretched,
pirouetting slowly, soil slipping between her toes.
‘you know what your problem is?’ she says between spins,
‘you want everything to be tragic.
close your eyes.’
her fingers are suddenly cold against my eyelids.
‘what do you see?’ her breath is warm on my neck.
‘nothing, obviously.’
‘okay, now look.’
she tilts my head towards the sky,
‘half of them stars are dead already.’
‘i know. so?’
‘is that tragic?’
‘well... yes, when you think about it.’
‘okay, now close your eyes again.
open. what do you see?’
‘dirt? i don’t know.’
‘maybe? no?’ i laugh softly.
‘see what i mean?’, she laughs,
‘you need to get your head out of the dirt
and stop being so full of self-pity.
you think you’re doing some great moral favour
by looking at a caterpillar and thinking it’s lonely or something.
lighten up, buttercheeks,’ she laughs again
and pinches my cheeks, ‘everything is beautiful.
the ugly things, the dead things, the dying things.
so, i’m going to ask you again,’ she grins,
‘it’s so damn beautiful, don’t you think?’
‘it’s,’ i pause,

the moon casts off a light maize glow
that sits on her lips,
glistening and slightly agape,
while her eyes flit between mine,
sclera soaking up the sky
as her irises reflect the trees
arching above us.

‘beautiful, yes.’
O! music: Click (Youtube)

^ Click to see an acoustic arrangement of Ke$ha's 'Your Love is my Drug' - everyone's favourite song.
you know i love every part of this, Nate. I'll shoot myself in the foot if this doesn't win.
Last edited by kdownes at Jun 26, 2009,