in the corner of my basement there is a pipe that just sits there
and in this pipe that's in my basement there is some mold that has grown.
In the corner of my basment there is a pipe with some mold and it is
dark and awfully smelly
and i tried to suck it out.
i do not know as to why, but i wrapped my mouth around it, and i
tried to inhale whatever in it grew. in my lungs i had it pictured, as to
what was really happening. And as the tiny spores over took me
the waiting was quite maddening, just to lay down and die.
but i didn't i just waited and i coughed up an awful thing
a black phlegm that had grown deep inside my throat,
not from the pipe it was there, or from any other mold
it seemed that it just grew there since before i was old.
now in this moment i knew that i would never die alone here,
i would never rot away in a basement built for two.

across the street there is a man and he's pulling a shopping cart,
he's got all his things and all his food and he's pulling a shopping cart,
and i witnessed this with my mold still deep inside my chest and
i saw what he face said and i knew
i'd never die.

and in the same vein there is a girl out there willing, to sit down
and talk to me when i need someone, she is lovely and she's dark haired
and she is Croatian. There is something about her voice or the way that
her body looks, the way that her eyes look when I think of her, she doesn't
give me pity or the smallest sign of laughter at my awful jokes, and so it
is in this, i regret to have sucked the mold out of a dirty pipe below my kitchen floor.
and it is now that i realize that everything is wonderful,
that everything is beautiful and that i will die alone,
this mold that has been growing and the mold that i suck
it will be stuck inside me until it drops me dead.

i'm sorry mrs. pipe for putting my mouth around you and sucking
all the bad out of you, and putting it in myself, and i hope you have
a great life being a pipe and all. Will you be doing things that you love to do, like
draining water and pushing exhaust and letting spiders into my home, will you
be doing all of these things when I am all gone? I really hope that you are being a pipe
so often, and being a pipe so well because that is what you're best at, you wonderful little pipe.

and then i died.
Wow. This was crazy good. It was prose. I don't know exactly what to say because this is pretty different from anything I've ever read.

One thing that annoys me, kind of a pet peeve, is when people don't capitalize any letters.

Getting more specific, in the beginning, when you were kind of repeating the same thing you said before while adding an additional fact, it was quite interesting. I'm not one for repetition, but it struck a chord, y'know? I liked that a lot.

What I think is utterly useless is that part with the dude with the shopping cart. I don't see the point at all. The girl serves a purpose, but not the man (IMPO).
Last edited by mamosa at Sep 7, 2009,
What i love about this is you developed a strong sense of style, purpose, voice and character and you stuck to it, right through the entire piece. Not once did anything slip, and consistency like that is damn hard to do and damn hard to find in writing. This read like an Edgar Allen Poe poem for a child, if that makes any sense to you at all. This dark, foreboding air reminiscent of Poe, but written in the simple repetitive and rhyming style that is almost childlike and innocent. THe juxtaposition of those two things, i think, is what made me greatly enjoy this piece.
This is the best piece I have read in quite a while and thats all there is to say.
Outside the side box that's outside your sky box.

"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching

Interesting! Even though I doubt this as a "song" it was an awesome funny little story. =D
I like that you have your own style and personal thoughs mixed into one.
And the funny thing is that this catches the reader, even though it wasn't to serious and rather random (as the shopping cart man). xD
this brought tearful feelings to me.
Quote by icaneatcatfood
On second thought, **** tuning forks. You best be carrying around a grand piano that was tuned by an Italian
I browsed through this Matt, and I enjoyed most of what I read, but some things just didn't click with me. I'll do a real crit when I'm not drunk, but this was a nice, enjoyable piece to me, I just want to nitpick a little bit, haha. Anyway, thanks for a good read.