Kool-Aid and calculated risk taking,
A brisk walk on the mild side
Has left you wanting more.
The line is breaking,
But be careful what you fish for.
There’s a knock on the door
And it’s for you,
Yeah, so it’s for you.
I remember stepping into the brine
As you tip tapped the tick tock
To keep it in line.
It was running out of rhyme and time
Was set to trickling
And tickling from inside.
Doris day and Doris night!
The stars about won’t start a fight
If you talk to them like that,
My dear.
Celestial bodies are not fans
Of blood,
And blood breeds bad seeds
That shoot at the moon
Like thieves.
The gull are shook,
Rattling frigid looks,
And the crooks are creeping
Up the hall.
Oh, Doris,
I can see them all,
And they call like crows
In a catered carrion free for all.
As the sun fades
Into its aquatic grave,
I save a test from the ******* past
And, Doris,
You have loaned stones to my
House of glass.
You’ve crashed,
And you’ve bashed,
And you’ve lashed yourself
To a mast
That you aren’t willing to steer.
In this instance,
I can still hear the bruising pier,
Cheering and jeering,
Until it believed its last.
May 7, 2021
May 7, 2021 at 1:26 AM UTC
Kool-Aid and calculated risk taking,
A brisk walk on the mild side
Has left you wanting more.
The line is breaking,
But be careful what you fish for.
There’s a knock on the door
And it’s for you,
Yeah, so it’s for you.
I remember stepping into the brine
As you tip tapped the tick tock
To keep it in line.
It was running out of rhyme and time
Was set to trickling
And tickling from inside.
Doris day and Doris night!
The stars about won’t start a fight
If you talk to them like that,
My dear.
Celestial bodies are not fans
Of blood,
And blood breeds bad seeds
That shoot at the moon
Like thieves.
The gull are shook,
Rattling frigid looks,
And the crooks are creeping
Up the hall.
Oh, Doris,
I can see them all,
And they call like crows
In a catered carrion free for all.
As the sun fades
Into its aquatic grave,
I save a test from the ******* past
And, Doris,
You have loaned stones to my
House of glass.
You’ve crashed,
And you’ve bashed,
And you’ve lashed yourself
To a mast
That you aren’t willing to steer.
In this instance,
I can still hear the bruising pier,
Cheering and jeering,
Until it believed its last.
This is part one in a ten part narrative poem. The whole thing tells the story of some unidentified incident, a nasty time in an unknown person's life. Doris may be many things. Doris may be nothing.
