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call the cops.
they cooking rocks
in a shanty town compound
its just how they get down
most denounceable settlement
heroine needles nettle men
shredded by early elements
surely only pure irrelevents
no evidence of life
that reflected
anything intelligent
they were like
hell with it;
preferred not
to confer the
elephant in the parlor
though of pachyderm stature
he still delicate & he starvin.

attention ya'll.
there's histrionic
insect larva writhing
inside dying bodies
of constants.
wanting nothing but to be alive
to watch the sky ***** lights
contrite with wasting time & space
decided to face what made the comets
atum & adam & atoms.
dizzy sassed her,
kiss me ***
slapper
pass the days faster
calmly
this was a disaster
it sounds so wrong
but
how else
do you say it.

it seems
there is no
safe explaination
that demons &
godless heathens
still hold faith in unseen reason
aurical feelings
bottomless meanings &
improbable teachings
exploring the being
& being anything
more than whimsy
FrazzlyDazzly.
Alyssa Yu  Jul 2015
freezerburn
Alyssa Yu Jul 2015
i have never known how to love halfway
split between the extremities of
gut-wrenching, soul-consuming, burn-the-world-down passion
and tired apathy
and i would either walk to the ends of the world for you
or not even to the end of the street

maybe that's why i hated goldilocks
for continually reminding me that i've never been 'just right' for anybody
a bowl of cold porridge, a chair three sizes too big
someone you settle for but never really want

maybe, you argue, i should learn to stretch myself more evenly
but i seem to have a problem of only seeing things in black and white
(more often than not, i land on black)

the problem is, i spend most of life in retreat
face hidden behind hair, hands pulled under sleeves, soundproof headphones
shuffling down sidewalks to a soundtrack of alternative music on full blast

but when i give my heart away,
it is not release
like gently unlocking a tabernacle to let the blood breathe
it is artpoetrywar
ribcage torn open, red hands, stains on the bathroom floor
clawing out the fire in my chest
just to hand them the universe on a burnt-out matchstick

i can count on one hand the people i love beyond a doubt
and it takes the same fingers to count how many of them deserve more than my ashy soul
still, my body aches for the other ghosts in my life i want to care more about
so i guess i'm finally learning what my math teacher meant when she said two halves make a hole
Devon Brock Aug 2019
I used to live downwind of the slaughterhouse,
the one below the high bluff where the state pen towers,
commanding the best view of the marsh lands
and the stink ponds making lime outta ****
for the crops not meant for human consumption;
by the dry grass parks with the broken backboards
and the netless hoops that never slow a ball down.

I used to live downwind of the rendering plant
where the bubbling lard becomes aerosol
and the air reeks of freezerburn bacon and feces,
below the high bluff where the trustees cut grass
in the clean air not meant for the locals
mixing with the immigrants and loser folk
who have knots in their shoelaces that
press against bone when chasing a loose ball.

This town never grew up. Doesn't need to.
There's plenty of ground for the taking.
Plenty of farmers selling out to the downtown club
who cobble the streets in past time fashion,
netting big gains from the professional set
lining the smooth roads annexed to the east.

I used to live downwind of the closing in stink
of renewal, where the cheap rentals and struggle
stores with the marked-up Walmart brands
lining the shelves - expired but still edible -
bide their short time compressed and diced
up like leftovers for dogs.

But this is America. I don't live there anymore.
I got myself a cush gig with a padded ladder
to the top. Did everything I needed to do
for that sure climb out into a cleaner air,
only to find myself bruise-faced and reeling
when the profits didn't match the dream
and the ladders were sold for scrap.
ScaR SavagE Nov 2018
I wrapped it up in foil,
I didn't want it to ever spoil,
I stuck it in the freezer,
Heard freezing prolongs shelf life,
I wrapped it up in foil,
But freezerburn has set in,
It's destroying all the good that was left deep within,
I wrapped it up in foil,
But her heart was a machine never oiled,
I wrapped it up in foil,
But with your touch she was quick to spoil.

— The End —