on the roof, as we tap our heels about, smiles abound -
and between exhausted breaths, I tried to explain
the world away, justify just why I stuck around for the
hailstorm, the admission, that night, the decomposing
question mark that lay next to me in the morning.

fast forward through every identity I've ever given you.
blue hair, blond eyes, and a stroke of genius on the
floor to make up for the coke left in the car the night before.
by the time you get back here, I'll be down the hall in 302,
deciding that better it be me, because they might do it wrong.

it doesn't ever blink, this philosophy we know as art,
wrapped up in the blanket provided by the cops, remember that?
we hadn't slept - not together at the very least, but that was
less the issue upon the french beret's arrival to the scene,
a deadly and preposterous scheme made for the departed,

and subject to the mark of the uncomfortably benighted -
worthy may they be in royal forests and their guilt,
imaginations in their cages and the trains in feature films
narrated by the prisoner, a life sentence that I received with
intent to pass it on, but better it be me, for they might do it wrong.

this is not the time or place for true or false confessions,
so wipe that grimace from your face and return to all your habits.
I cannot be included this time around, because you know she'll go
on trial for my indignation, and refuse to fight for her own cause,
while I would tap my feet and try expectantly to explain the world away.
this poem gave me the feeling of the lonliness and abandonment felt by having the whole world against you.

the blue hair blonde eyes part captured such an interesting facet of 'identity', it's something that hadn't hit me before or because I haven't looked hard enough. it's something that i'd expect to find in a fill-out form.

that said, I love the rhythm and stress of the words you used.
Quote by icaneatcatfood
On second thought, **** tuning forks. You best be carrying around a grand piano that was tuned by an Italian
I can't crit this at the moment. Just a note to say I really enjoyed it.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
You know I really like this piece. However, something about it - it makes me want to see prose from you. It has more of a story-like feeling to it, and perhaps that's the point, I really don't know if it's good thing or a bad thing. I think you should give prose a try more often. Hopefully I'm going to actually get to read some very soon...
This is not a pipe
very interesting but I'm struggling here to find a very concrete meaning behind this one moreso than I usually do with your others. Maybe I'm looking for the wrong thing? I get a feeling of something along the lines of the idealism in art paralleled against the idealism we sometimes look for in the less than ideal reality around us? I'll have to think on this. Pretty sonically though, by the way.

And Carmel, his prose (that I've read so far) is very enjoyable
Anatomy Anatomy
Whale Blue Review

Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
Dream about me
The way you write-even when I read your crits-gives me the feeling that writing comes very naturally to you. I liked this alot. One of the very few things I have read on S+L that has rhymed and not sounded cheesy at all. You pulled it off very well.

Not much I can add in the way of criticism. I don't know enough to find something wrong with it.

And I agree with carmel, I would love to see some prose from you.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
I have nothing to critique, really.

Your first verse was perfect. The rest didn't grab me as well, but was still thoroughly descriptive reading. I found it hard, at times, to keep my concentration - the middle section lacked a jump-start, or a punch to the gut - but other than that...

I have nothing to critique, really.
I agree about the whole middle section not being very gripping - it seems almost like filler material. That being said, "something along the lines of the idealism in art paralleled against the idealism we sometimes look for in the less than ideal reality around us" is incredibly descriptive with regards to what I was thinking, even if my own reasons were not at all along those lines. The first stanza had my attention, too, and it means something that is very real, but apparently I was distracted later on, as it flowed from me, and as usual, I'm in another galaxy by the end of it. Keep your concentration, Sean. Jesus.