#1
I came the other day across
in a ditch by the road I was walking on
a small chinaman, a bureaucratic looking fellow,
smoking opium and looking up at the sky
from which raindrops fell on his face
a glaze in his eyes and a blankness
about him,

came to mind some qualities of the child's ragdoll,
who, swung around by her hair for years
dragged and left in dirt and moist sun
waterlogged with dog slobber and
on her third eye stitched clumsily together looking sideways
smiles a small smile of resignation and
a feeling of joints worn thin held together by single-digit threads,
a smile that can't go away because that's the way it's stitched.

the chinaman, stiched fixedly in this ditch covered up to his ears with
chunky jet black sludge shining his torn clothes,
licked the blood dribbling down his chin and blew smoke
three feet high into the air

I approached closer and said
"Are you okay? Who did this to
you?"

He looked at me for a long time.
Unmoving, more blood spilling down his face

I came closer and he said, in a distantquietly voice
ground into soft gravel,
"Nobody."

He smiled at me right in the face with his
black and green and absent teeth, gums seeping with
blood,
and I realized he smelled sweet, like bubblegum and
roses.

I smiled uneasily and walked away
to find a place I could sit down out of the rain and
take off my torn up shoes.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
#2
Hello lovecraft. Very good work, very very good
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist




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