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natty-morrisonPoems
i thought for a long time long enough to hear the ocean being swallowed by all the salt long enough to hear the earth speak in its original dialect; drawl'd, drawn out patient as molasses. i thought long enough that i could hear every sound ever made. Dead sounds decayed as cicada shells even the ones in the forest no one was around to hear. And i thought it sounded like a fire alarm in some basement down the street. i thought for a long time with my eyes shut i thought for a long time with a power drill pressed against my neck i thought for such a long time my insides dried out decomposed and fermented my blood into gas trapped in fleshy canvas. My corpse was a blimp now and i thought about having nothing in my head. and then i was weightless. my dead self floating into space like a christian wet dream all i saw was objects objectively getting smaller like collectibles over years And all i could think was How does carbon taste? and I could see the world as objects standing next to other objects standing next to nothing unless there's an object. Like something that exists and that's it. And that's that. i thought for a long time slackjawed with carbon stains on my teeth thinking without thinking about meaning without meaning writing down a dream and throwing it under a bus before you read it. being without meaning is not the same as meaningless how pointless a meaning feels until you name it. So i wrote down everything i could think of that meant nothing to me straight down like a list and I called it a poem. And suddenly i didn't have to think anymore.
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Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 12:50 PM UTC
Untitled
i thought for a long time long enough to hear the ocean being swallowed by all the salt long enough to hear the earth speak in its original dialect; drawl'd, drawn out patient as molasses. i thought long enough that i could hear every sound ever made. Dead sounds decayed as cicada shells even the ones in the forest no one was around to hear. And i thought it sounded like a fire alarm in some basement down the street. i thought for a long time with my eyes shut i thought for a long time with a power drill pressed against my neck i thought for such a long time my insides dried out decomposed and fermented my blood into gas trapped in fleshy canvas. My corpse was a blimp now and i thought about having nothing in my head. and then i was weightless. my dead self floating into space like a christian wet dream all i saw was objects objectively getting smaller like collectibles over years And all i could think was How does carbon taste? and I could see the world as objects standing next to other objects standing next to nothing unless there's an object. Like something that exists and that's it. And that's that. i thought for a long time slackjawed with carbon stains on my teeth thinking without thinking about meaning without meaning writing down a dream and throwing it under a bus before you read it. being without meaning is not the same as meaningless how pointless a meaning feels until you name it. So i wrote down everything i could think of that meant nothing to me straight down like a list and I called it a poem. And suddenly i didn't have to think anymore.
Written by
natty-morrison
American
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 12:50 PM UTC
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