Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
B E Cults Jan 2021
the kind of empty you feel
as a kid having just learned that
your parents are never going
to care to understand you.
that and jazz.

that kind of emptiness and
Mingus, Coltrane, Davis, BBNG;
still careening,
still empty,
still.
ancient.
time means nothing
and nothing is notes on a saxophone,
or piano, or trumpet, or the sky itself.

where are we in the whirlwind?
B E Cults Jan 2021
some wish life would just ignite
like a monk on a Vietnamese sidewalk,
but in 4k instead of black and white.
our apathy takes it's hat off indoors though.
they don't want to know
what goes into it.

this war is a chore I'll be more than
ecstatic to treat as a boring Saturday
when I'm finally awarded the time to.

I am cracked alabaster.
I am atrophy.
I am Saturn taking bites of the progeny.

I am the progeny.
B E Cults Jan 2021
some of my really long practice rambling put through a few text
manipulators. it is 95% random.
I just took out repeats and misspellings. the rest is how it was spit out of the TM.

the you with whenever
back insensateness
window benzole Benzes
superstrength
rats have ichthic because
pried be how are tide
randomised the doors
limbs perpetually adrift
until reactivating evocative
phonetic persuaders to a ok fog
all undepraved the time
gainable arrears
financial nonteachings
stuck *******
space circumfusion
to things still doom of mending content
believe broadcasters highdive
into glycosylating days
classmates trepanning to
delightless clocks
sovereign
tiramisu isn't ruinable
Other then to repopulate gigaflops
B E Cults Jan 2021
lich king with a litany
of reasons the ****'s creek
trip went off the rails
last season
B E Cults Jan 2021
wedding day
picture Tristan Tzara
reading horoscopes
scene
we all seek out horror shows
to throw quarters into
bored with this
gorefest
metamorphic
CRISP lower case r
NA meeting
we stopped going
we sit in bars
DOC in bathrooms
touching stars
meet Elohim
EMTs weren't fast enough
black
oblivion
slipping from skin like Prada
la la la la
pranayama
for the love God please stop
we did yesterday
B E Cults Jan 2021
we were never not just
wisps of smoke twisting
slowly off the remnants
of someone else's hopes
yet to be made manifest.

maybe, they were.

éphémère.
perpétuel.

nothing ever ends
because it was nothing
to begin with.
Next page