#1
There's something in my head,
it crawls and digs and procreates.
It feeds on lights and sounds;
fluorescent glow and soccer commentary.

suddenly a silhouette illuminates the foreground;
a figure of vulpine grace dancing between
the dusk shadowed parkway of bar stools and dining tables.

factory lit, that restaurant subtle sepia,
Her face was hardly visible under her dirty blond hair.
She wants me to order. She asks but I see past the job description,
She needs the answer. She's a broke ***** and I'm a lonely millionaire.

A steak and a side salad on a silver platter slide their way
down the street and into the worker's hands
Where they chisel away at salt and pepper shakers
until their hands bleed a Cajun rub.

I'm home now, talking to myself,
Or the girl on my couch,
Making terrible jokes about silverware
and trying to get her sloppy drunken lips
off my precious crimson fabric.

A silhouette on shadowed land,
She's armed with a mane of store-bought red
and sleeping, sexual eyes in black and white
That forgive me all my sins.
#2
very, very good. i wasnt expecting much, to be honest, but you truly changed my mind.

great ideas, well written.
#4
I can't say much else except that I really enjoyed this. I'll come back when I'm not so tired
#5
Quote by Thomasoman
There's something in my head,
it crawls and digs and procreates.
It feeds on lights and sounds;
fluorescent glow and soccer commentary. This first stanza did well ins ecuring my interest. I'm not sure i like the "lights and sounds" and then telling us what "lights and sounds", it just felt like uneeded reiteration

suddenly a silhouette illuminates the foreground;
a figure of vulpine grace dancing between
the dusk shadowed parkway of bar stools and dining tables. The imagery in this stanza is really beautiful, and it capture my attention, amde me want more information. Who is this silhouette?

factory lit, that restaurant subtle sepia,"restaurant subtle sepia" is one of the most beautiful phrases i've ever heard
Her face was hardly visible under her dirty blond hair.
She wants me to order. She asks but I see past the job description,
She needs the answer. She's a broke ***** and I'm a lonely millionaire.

A steak and a side salad on a silver platter slide their way
down the street and into the worker's hands
Where they chisel away at salt and pepper shakers
until their hands bleed a Cajun rub. I don't think this stanza serves much of a purpose. SUre, you're describing other people around you, but why? I don't care what's happening around you, unless it directly influences your story.

I'm home now, talking to myself,
Or the girl on my couch,
Making terrible jokes about silverware
and trying to get her sloppy drunken lips
off my precious crimson fabric. I liked this, a lot simpler than anything so far, felt more real

A silhouette on shadowed land, There's silhouette again,t ying it back together
She's armed with a mane of store-bought red
and sleeping, sexual eyes in black and white
That forgive me all my sins.


I enjoyed this. This is actually the first time i've read anything of yours, I'll ahve to go read your other work now. This was a good solid piece, with some beautiful writing and imagery. I just feel your biggest let down was the fact that the story lagged occasionally, and it seemed you were spending more time on details then continuing the plot. Which is fine, but not in extremes. This was an enjoyable read anyway.