#1
it's wine,
rub your eyes.
it's morning, make your bed
lovers left a warning,
did someone slip out the back?
you can't remember,
it probably doesn't matter.
to the kitchen!
doorway, hallway, walkway, all the way.
is the coffee done?
(i love it when the coffee's done.)
sitting on the couch, window lets the ocean in,
curled up like defeat on the floral print.
pale morning sunlight is less than enthusiastic,
hoping for blue and settling for white skies.
cold breeze raises evolutionary run-off
sipping for lukewarm feelings, inspecting
the chipped wood of the coffee table,
clean and free from purpose because
most of the stains are on your teeth.

in biloxi or murfreesboro
or somewhere far from coast
you walk alight among the merry cars
and trading posts.
stopping in the 7-11 for lottery tickets
contemplating profiteers of hope.

(the numbers:
8, the days we met
16, our ages then
22, our ages now
27, the months since
31, the hours when
44, just because.
'please try again.'
bitter laughter.)

ecclesiastical pamphleteer,
shuffles up the street corner,
pretty black girl, too shy to smile,
hands you her literature without
a word or second thought
to what it would mean to you to find a god,
and you walk away folding a paper bird
for sadako and the baptists' hearts.

it's sky, it's redder,
it's raining or wetter.

climbing stairs to turn around;
take in the pulsing panorama,
people hiding under wet umbrellas.
buzz. buzz. buzz.
"yo, let me up."
you don't remember why you started
smoking pot, but there's reasons for quitting
in your drug dealer's parking lot.
not that you would, won't, don't want to
disconnect from the cul-de-sac,
reimagine life as floating heads
tickle ivories while they're still on elephants,
it's the coming down, it's coming back.

you're walking back,
brown leaves crushing underfoot
city flushing with night,
a cop on every corner,
bar windows blushing with light
gutters drinking the alley water.

lonesome, loveless, perfect,
lexicographers unrepentant,
but they don't make words for this.

home again
and there's something running
soft and warm on your cheeks
leaves your spine to tingling.
it's water,
rub your eyes.
it's nighttime, go to sleep.
#2
I read through once, and I can say I liked it. The rhythm, the wording.. something about it is just different, but I like it. It doesn't just blabber on about you're depressing feelings, it really does pop off my screen as I read it.

I feel like I can do this better justice if I come back to it later, so I'll come back to this once I figure out what it is about this that I like so much.
#3
yes. this was great. remember the sound of the trucks lumbering around the cul-de-sac and back up the street? everyone you cared about or thought you did was asleep. it's all here. some great rhymes and flow, some great ideas and lines. and oh how familiar this seems
lonesome, loveless, perfect,
lexicographers unrepentant,
but they don't make words for this.

home again
and there's something running
soft and warm on your cheeks
leaves your spine to tingling.
it's water,
rub your eyes.
it's nighttime, go to sleep.

now i can only hope for dreams
Anatomy Anatomy
Whale Blue Review

Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
Dream about me
#4
a favorite from you. none of that tightly-packed flowery bullshit that i usually like from you, but just a walk through your day, a slip into your shoes and clothes and skin, and beautifully so. the bit with the lottery numbers is just so... gah. it just says so much. i wont get into it. hopefully saying that this is 'good' and that i 'love' it will mean more than anything elaborate that i have to say. i love it. better this that someone else.
<3

also if you dont mind dropping a word
https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1361261
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist




e-married to
theguitarist
minterman22
tateandlyle
& alaskan_ninja