Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Michael Parish Mar 2017
But nevertheless I hear you can know what noise inclined inside our Sunday night before dark blue an hour job of bounds sorrows in brittle glass ball pen in here air zones to know how noise did it.
never on Sunday night at times I have you still how much I love to know the noise.   For another day and an amazing time.
Michael Parish Mar 2017
Perhaps it was the fudge or the twenty beers you had at your bosses wake.  Never the less you see a dark alley open up and you want to bottle neck your self out of your cloths.  A few friends join you its what friends do for eachother after a funeral.  The streets are dull and the gas lites are only monuments left from the days we crawled out and walked back in our caves.  A misquito breaks curfew and seduces the skin on your neck.  But it feels more and more insane like wearing a tuxedo to the gym to avoid playing racket ball with your dead boss.  You think for a moment and have seizure on in the cab of your friends chevy.  Your eyes roll back and for a moment youve felt the blinding dance of not knowing what will happen next.
Michael Parish Mar 2017
**** me now!
I have seen the moons hidden holes
The clouds move with narrow marks.
The houses stay!
The wild dog leaves to go in for the nite.
The washer stops humming.
The fan keeps turning.
The tiles a movment for grime and unclean hairs.
The waters a dying gasp for the brutal lover
Let me hold you!
Michael Parish Mar 2017
It was not hers nor was it ours.
It was that cry inside our mind
We knew we had it and sung it.
Like  her we wouldnt recall it.
But we remembered what it was
She had cried. It was not the idea of us crying nor her bringing us in like the waves.  She had shown us the thing itself the lyrics screamed  when we first found the sea.
Michael Parish Mar 2017
The lodge polls shake and skin their branches down.
The bloodless pitch of sap always browns!
The freedom of wind swooping through the cones!
Needles touched to blossom in creeks and streams!
Everlasting Proof we can never die alone.
Michael Parish Mar 2017
I wondered if he liked slouching
Or sniffing black cigars in his garden
With pitchers of red beer glazing
Under coconuts!

                               2

Im in a paccific coast lite house trying to find what makes the water on this map solid and walkable.  
After all its just a painting coppied on computers and sold to children at truck stops.  I want the waves and the gummy worms all at once the coke bottles flowing out in globs of stout the kind i waited to get to and sink into like padded stools over looking the atlantic.  Open a mohito on sunday close the pork farm on monday.  You lit a smoke and dreamed of climbing the tallest cypress in havanah.  I passed out in key west on a marlin charter.  We never found a submarine thay day.
Michael Parish Jan 2016
My pink toes my jerky
Driftwood something yellow
Like hot dogs something nuts
Like a grren home run
Ya my rest
My privacy
My screaming snooze dreams.
Somone spun lip stick
Like ******* or keats
Somebody kised
My drunk asain drunk neck
Somebody killed
Somedy went to their mother
Im under winsheilds scraming phony
Co piolet tuaila valley
Look left we kicked shopping centers
Some man who screams like
Short *****
Goes listen
I finally admitted you did my back
Caking dizzy scream
Some man my hair
Some man i hate
Some man nobody wants
Bedz wax
He whines hes called blood
He dri ks steak he won
He beat the used ****
Well here goes privacy
My red head tok my room room
I cat litter the bay dreams
I find rade im gay
My **** i pace the boys
It seems everyone hold my dads hat
Ifi could kiss my dad
Tell my mom she runs with seaweed
Wehat we ****
We buy we ***** drinks
Why keep something
I dream of addictive ****
I dream of inteligance
My dad gre wild my dads dad would of hated my hair cream my dads dad respects ******* but swore a white mans
Hair cut belongs in the red blue cut atoms apple break down who runs who kills who wears
Who goes home with no fault until pies goose her.  Well
She love my cards when the carpets partedand checkersmeant seing aa young man wit no control.
Howmany now
Since im older
Ever wished they just ****** the boy
Howmany got freedom
No body they only hope love got a better *******
Love got a wiser time!
Next page