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july hearne Aug 2021
he was the kind of guy who would have willfully participated
in the ****** of Sylvia Likens, and very much have enjoyed the interaction with the rest of the gang while doing so.

he is still that kind of guy,
just a lot older now
too good for most things
and all the women who now hate him
for all the discomforting memories he had left them with.

his mom had been a nurse
and now his sister was too
perhaps whatever woman he was with was too,

his mother loved him, how could she not,
she had been a nurse,
so he was absolutely sure that masks, social distancing, and mandated vaccines were how it should be.
anyone who didn't know these things was too embarrassing for him.
his mom told him so.

at the age of 44, he still had the exact same job he had had for the past twenty years. he was too good to do anything else other than making deliveries to restaurants, which were all requiring vaccine passports for dine in and perhaps soon delivery.

most of him felt very important
every time he unloaded his delivery van
or posted on twitter or instagram

or wrote about how many of those woman had deeply loved him
even though they were not worthy of his importance
and could never be

he was too desirable for them
and they needed to learn that
so he had taken the time to teach them that
long ago, they needed to learn
so he had taken the time to teach them that
if they had been worth remembering, he would still find a way to continue teaching them that.

life had been good lately, he made $95 CAD
on a baseball card trade, he was a good person
who had a lot to offer the world and only deserved
the most smoking hot of non-throwaway women
when there were so many throwaway women who needed to learn

he knew what all the good music and writing was
and knew when something wasn't worth listening to or worth reading, jack ketchum's **** was certainly no good, he knew it,
all the fun girls knew it too,
he knew a lot, so he taught.

he was a good person with a good life and smart with his baseball card investment strategies, he didn't need an undesirable life
he had good advice to give to baseball, football, hockey, and soccer leagues
it was easy to make all these excellent observations

as a good person,
he reached over for his smokin hot queenshit
earlier this very night,
kissed the nape of queenshit's sweet, whip-smart neck
and fondled queenshit's girl ****

while listening to the queen's vaccinated breathing
tomorrow he would make a youtube playlist for queenshit
that included drunken one off's he had recorded with his band 15 years ago
then, one of them would make an interesting, important dinner
they would both eat and talk about.
*David Bowie - 'Tis a Pity She Was a ***** [Audio]
krm Feb 2021
In sixth grade,
I wrote a letter to David Bowie
addressed to his New York home never knowing
a girl named Kamryn exists,
but I thought I was special enough
for a world-renowned rock star to reply
or care enough about some pre-teen angst

I shared with him how my grandma Pam
chose drugs over (I know now an addiction has many more complex layers)
getting to know her grandchildren or
to love her son, but then I remembered-
this is David ******* Bowie, he's lived life
with ******* in his bloodstream for thirty years prior

Maybe, I mentioned it all
because I wanted to feel special,
like the way, I think dying young
will create that for me. It's stupid
how I painfully so-identified as
"the girl with the mousy hair"
and the piano aiding an eloquent
discussion about the world's disarray
in which I selfishly identified as my own
"Life on Mars" always felt like a personal performance
just for me, but at twenty-one, it isn't just a song
and I still lay awake wondering if Mars and I
share a similarity, we want life to ebb
so distinctly within us both.
Jude Quinn Apr 2019
You know how many times we looked at the screen
hoping we could see ourselves in there?
and you know how we never even caught a glimpse?

Still don't know what we were expecting.
We were a little too beautiful to sell our souls
to some weird carnival mirror,
and, anyway, you can't instastory a heart,
no matter how hard some might try.

However, every now and then
I can't help but look again at that screen
and just wonder how the clowns
might see the stranger.

Do they know that time may not change them,
but that they can't trace time?
winter sakuras Jan 2019
Every time, once in a while
I would think to myself,
oh how I wish I had never been born

yet then I'd find myself
thinking of the Labrinyth movie,
where Sarah had made
the same wish towards her baby brother,
and there followed a night
of when the Goblin King
took her brother away

and it was quite a journey
to bring the babe back,
from traps, thick stone walls, and timeless sunsets
within the maze
to the shimmering dance of the illusion
with the Goblin King himself
who seemed to make the world fall down
around Sarah's shoulders

if you could describe
the mingling of dazed wonderment
and the dizzying fear of consequences from
wrong choices made in the split second
it takes to wish
you were never born,

it would feel something like
wandering through a labyrinth, where nothing is normal
and everything eludes sense,
thriving on the split moments
of ignorance, anger, and sadness
that result from the world
and everyday deeds,
and the character of the person you are

no matter how tempting
or dazzling
the world full of shimmering illusions may be,
it is in the end, still
another bottomless dark hole
to spiral down into

I guess that's why
when things take a turn for the rough
in life
and I turn to wish that I had
never been born,
I always find myself
thinking of the Goblin King coming to
****** me away
to lead me into the world of
luring, beautifully twisted illusions
that drain the soul out of you when you've
had enough.
01/09/18
Oh! You Pretty Thing
First time I saw you I thought Watch That Man
I really wish he'd Rock N Roll with me All Nite
because he looks like he's coming straight out of 1985.
Unfortunately It Ain't Easy since you already got this China Girl
but Where Are We Now? We made some Changes
and finally Here Comes The Night we'll be turning down the lights
covered in Ziggy Stardust, Dancing In The Streets, I never felt so right.
I'm a Rebel Rebel living on a Blackstar
you say Love Is Lost and just like you I Can't Give Everything Away
but I now that All The Young Dudes ain't got a thing on you
right now I'm in the Quicksand and can't find a way through.
I'll be your Lady Stardust, you'll be my Starman
we can be Heroes just for one night, or we can be us just for one day
so come on, let's go rattle the stars
And, maybe, in Five Years
we'll discover if there really is Life on Mars?
The "infamous" David Bowie poem
Tintin Mar 2017
Never will
his memory die
for he lives
in song and art

floating
his spirit blends
with his beloved sky
filled in a sea
of stars

and in the stars
at last he has become
part of the space
he loved

The legend watches
now a constellation
and smiles upon
the work he has inspired
I am not of this world


My eyes are not eyes

They are Black Holes

Swallowing this universe whole


My heart is not a heart

It is a Pulsar

******* you dry


My soul is not simply a soul

It is a Nebula

Forging the birth of stars


My body is not just a body

It is a Galaxy

Holding the celestial organs of my Super Nova
I've had this unnamed and in draft for well over a month but I've haven't posted it because I didn't know if I was finished with it. But considering the recent loss of Ziggy the Starman, I wanted to finish and post it. Rest my friend. There's life on Mars now.
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