#1
goat.
goat.
goat.
sheep.
you're baaaad news.
and the evening light clicks on
and the curtains draw and you're
on the box -
an electric heartbeat tube -
slice me in four.
eat my ventricle.
lopsided eye-twitch sticks out
like a prolonged fringe stuck up with
solid wax
and an ugly damp tinge
jabs you in the eye
like a dart flung quick.
don't stare at me -
stare at me via a mirror.
your presence accentuates my apathy.
lit to the tilt like paper alight,
tea-stain rustic nostaliga burning,
your pants wriggle away like a wet snake.
hot like chilli, hell like marmite,
smitten like velvet blackberry jam.
I was your bread, you were my butter -
the sex was good and all.
#2
i like looking at it as much as i like reading it.

the only line i found to be poor was "your presence accentuates my apathy". it read very unnecessary, as if you don't trust us to understand and want to guide us in that direction; additionally, there's a change of voice that comes when you read it (i don't mean p/a, obviously), almost like it went too heavily poetic or something. difficult to explain; it's just very different from the rest of the piece. the last line does the job of getting that point across better than that line.

spectacular diction, though. why'd i write syntax originally.
the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn


#3
love the hell like marmite ..
It's not baaaad news. It's good.
not going viral


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