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Martin Narrod Jan 2016
I woke up in the afternoon
Missed myself the morning train
It's the second one that I've missed
Since I tried to get going around 6am

I can't keep my eyes from tearing
My hands from doing their not-so-cool shakes
I reach into my pockets for something
That just feels a little bit like yesterday

I can hear the whistle blowing
From outside my apartment door
I believe for the first time
Maybe I should drive to work

We missed each other's calls from last night
I counted the minutes that passed,
I drank myself a thirty-three year old brandy
I stole from my parent's liquor cabinet.

The 10:00am buzz to get me right
Started for, is it Saturday?
I don't drink but to remember
I drink to remember the pain.

A .44 at close range
My heart skips with great excite,
The bullet-proof vest I wear when I'm shot
May barely not save my life.

I've grown tired off waiting for the beach
I swim with sharks blacked out in the dark
Playing dares with Sarah Marie.
Until the wild Pacific digs its first row of teeth into me.
Martin Narrod Jan 2016
Now it's up to my neck
and it's over my head
it's inside my mouth
but lives under the bed

There's the times it calls me late
By names I'd rather not say
I swallow heavily until my dues are paid
And the sharp reconciliation of pain
Begins to fade and slip away

Of all my favorite places to die
My watery grave is where I'll stay.

You can't hold me like the
Magic of suspense
or the cold curfews of childhood days.
It's rapping against the side of my head
Calling to my insane to come out and play.

Don't be the space in between
Where I can't breathe right,
Be the sweet dreams where
Sleeping lovers lie,
I always keep my guns close
When the desert cries shoot up my neck
and the shrill of acid trickles down my back
For you
I'd do the planet in
Six Hundred & Sixty Six laps
barefoot with just a knapsack,

I'd slay dragons with the storm
in the hands that guide up your dress
And between your legs until you
Can't stand it
You hold you together with
Me while I reach for the sky
Only to find the nerves of sharks shattered
By the ache of doom
This critical hour the dawn imbues.

Observing the night
While it folds itself Inside the
Creatures that bend towards
The overtures or sunrises as
They are sometime's called,

I wished upon the stars
And there you came to me
Just past midnight on January 1st of
Two-thousand and Sixteen

I drown to drink you up
Your spit and blood
Your skin and touch
I could never have too much,
There's no too much, too much,
While we frolic in this serpent's lair
Taking each other up just for sighs
And you laugh and sing
While we drink poison happily,

Forever is the word applied
Just as together is for you and I.
I've turned my body into a gyro of human meat
Just so you can have something to eat.

Can I watch while you stalk
All your coolest and most favorite haunts,
You're the black panther I'm the soul heir of this wolf pack
If we can dine tonight
You'll never have to starve
I'll **** for you
Whether or not you want me to,
I keep the same names as the fury
Spinning through your web of cries
Beside's the devil
I can shutdown these sunrises.
But you're the daylight I want so badly so
I can just wear my cool sunglasses
all the time
While breathing in water
To bring the pain to life.
Martin Narrod Jan 2016
I'm a ***** for your lips and drunk off your touch
I'm the biggest dork when I'm wet with your love
I just want to drink you, I've never had enough
The poison's in me thick and I know soon death will come

Me, I'm a raving lunatic, I'm mad
Crazier than Carroll's hatter and his Cheshire Cat
I'd put three red hotels on the top of your head
Collect all of Free Parking then crawl into our bed

I am the venom if you are the pain
I just want a thousand years to revel in your name
I can count my true loves on one single hand,
But you I can only count one of because that's all that I've had.

I'm a cylinder of evil, wrought with torturous pain
Dizzied by the spinning of my circuitous brain
I'm needy for your antidote before blackness courses through my veins
And the moon hits its fifth phase and I turn into a werewolf again

I've never wanted to **** around or catch a second look
Now I've been on a carousel of women, full of hookers and crooks
My wheels are thrown sideways, my skin's full of threat
I'm sick with the tantrum, The Fever that missing you gives

I'm weaponized and viral, cursing but still in command
My flags in the ground and I'm taking over this land
I've written a new bible about blood and rock 'n roll
Surrender your body, because I've eaten your soul
I am the poison if you are the watch
I just want to be drunk off your breath and live inside your touch
touch senses sensation drunk ***** skin *** tears violence lust love romance explicit nsfw thefever grueling pain
Martin Narrod Jan 2016
so I guess this is it, the summit
not very impressing.
I thought at the least I'd see over the tops of skies
you should know I hid cigarette butts under the stone patio
off the guest wing. now I wish I could just lay on those rocks or at the base of your bed, vanity wore us down like shotgun rounds in the face of our masquerade ballet. I drank the bloods from your fountains of paradise: 19, 20, 21, 22, and 23

then found you in our bed with your fingers in your ***
to make sure we'd fit together more aptly, and now my skin
burns in its own rash of obsessive unforgetfulness, I make my own
******* future with you innit,

***** or no *****
I know nectars better than the Georgians
worship better than Mohammad
skin better than Buffalo Bill
and your name better than my own

Penguin.
Martin Narrod Dec 2015
we are not human
we are                     beyond
all that fits into strands of dna
we are a phone call away and just at the beginning
writhing with excitement that plays like anxiety. we are the nervousness
that turns the body right left and left right left before introducing us to becoming asleep. we are the narrative to the lives of others. our passwords don't match but I refuse to let popular radio dictate our lives. we've ****** ourselves red and sweet, cauterizing our moral wounds with *** and sensuality. we scuba dove in the bedlam of ***** intrigue where I drank the pulse of your fingertips into mid-morning blackouts.

I don't know what you do, but I bleed foreign tongues. I mince words and reconnect them, the Swedes would be proud. Inside the ribs, beyond our teenage skin, between us we are always something better going unchecked but never unnoticed. we have been enlightened, summoned, and have three unchecked voicemails that we will lie about listening to should we ever be confronted about it. I don't ever want to be readdressed by consciousness, I am unhappy there and here

                 the Power lines
Under

unto us both
we may never meet those quondam girl and boy bent by prurient looks
spit dollspit wordplay lust event language poetry writing chicago sanfrancisco chicago forpenguin musedandamused sensuality angst anxiety precipice
Martin Narrod Dec 2015
pick your master under the cover of snow
bends of darkness hemmed to the tops of conifers
Soon I will visit to move you. Three appended signatures,
Three thousand miles of telephone wire.

This is the one letter I cannot send
for there is no address for where you are,
The one I wish to call upon has no receiver to respond.
And now all my teeth begin to fall out
Like excess light bleeding from your moons.

I know the sound of Glass when I hear it.
You have made weapons out of my junk and
Then gone to war without me, I see you
Against the whistling stars and overseers,
Anxiety makes this heart grow fungus
These fingertips weary, and I pull out my eyelashes
As if trying to see you better through this impenetrable
black nightness I lead myself into, until all that
were corners and crests become the precipice.

Insecurity turns to rooks, hatred turns to Jays
Until the weeping have wept and I visit to stay.
Martin Narrod Dec 2015
shrug it off and be a boss
the best is yet to come
don't get stuck on 'falling back'
so fall forward if you would
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