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Joseph S C Pope Mar 2013
I

          Aspiring to reach the solar rabbit hole eclipse
                  --climbing up the well,
                                            the photon test tube
                                      sodden and crusted on the outside
                  by angsty
                                adults
       snorting obsession
             through The Manhattan Project straw.

                    The pirate boy wanted to be named
                           Skip--so determined Alice named him,
                                    Skippy, conqueror of blueberry mucus
                 --he reminded her of sidewalks
                         she found far in the misty woods
--no one walked
                      the unexpected like                                           him.

          Each placement of a pore: a bat cave
                                                       a depressed skull
                                                       a hollow exploit
                                                       a lame *** joke
                                                       a mildew plop

Almost certainly this cadaver matryoshka doll
would be human by the time
the two runaways
were born again                               Hallelujah! The dish breaker is crowning again
                                                           back to the galleons, rotting awkward candles.

               "Leave what is human                                       in
                                                                                            inhumane
                                                                                            places." the well speaks.
          Skippy tears the corners of his lips
          to his ears. Alice turns her temple to the sharpest part
                                                                            of the monumental
                                                                     test tube
                                and cracks her childhood back to the bottom
                                                                               --back to Euphoria. light poles open
                                                                                  up faces and throw their lights to the ground.
Both of the thrift store
lovers continue to climb--ripping off purchases
                   to the beggar's tin cup.

II*

   Severed hearts beat without metaphor
          as the empty vessels that hold them.
Spines sing of freedom like centipedes
                      facing fan blades.                                Pirate boys mock the smoker's language
                                                                      of mutiny.

Devalued skin,
                                        ***** armor
casted,          
                          lowered,
   teased, by the cadence
            of tumbling blood.  Marking territories other brother's can smell

                  Obediently, we see what
       gods are doing to them. They're paying
for drawing the different suits of God
   on the cave wall.            Hit jobs--vacuum spoils,
                     sucker punch postage stamps
              --revenge from a peaceful creator
  forcing the two to climb/climb/climb
           back to a speck
                   where dandelions grow
      from the revolution fetus and graphite,
& tongues, & lips, & nerves, & veins &
wolf spiders pour down/red matter clusterfucks.
Ashley Williams Mar 2014
Turvy-topsy,
Windwhirl
Up-down through the rabbit hole.

Mushroom tea-gardens,
"Eat me," "Drink me,"
The world is downside-up.

Clusterfucks of growing and shrinking,
Dum-Tweedle and Dee-Tweedle guide/block;
Cheshire's smile mocks from above.

Twisters, misters, no sisters.
Confusion reigns supreme.
OFF WITH HER HEAD!
Thank you to the person who liked it before it was finished and I accidentally saved it as public instead of as a draft. :) Hopefully you still like it lol.
Denise Writes Aug 2017
she breathed in tar
and exhaled something marred

inhaling nicotine and exhaling carbon monoxide
looks like she's gonna suicide


- 2 -

she attacc  (herself)
she protecc (her cigarettes)
most of all she defecc (tobacco lobbyists/industry)

and she also a defecc (anxiety disorder)

-3-

looks like denise isn't a very nice niece after all
her aunt said "tar reminds me of fond memories"
denise thought she meant the "la brea tar pits"
now she knows..... it's the Philip Morris/British American Tobacco pits in the alveoli

ravioli ravioli give me the rollie.
Cw: suicide,smoking
Graff1980 Sep 2015
You will not watch the videos
Of the police brutality
See the finality
Of their violence
Blood spilled
Another man killed
Spine severed or choked out
Swearing and pleading
Crying I can keep breathing
And you can’t stand seeing
The darker truths
So you turn it off and walk away

You will not look at the pictures
See the children gutted
Cities busted by bombs
Clusterfucks of killing
Legs split open
Jaw ripped wide
Eyes glazed
You are not phased
Because you turn and walk away

You do not hear the hungry child crying
Or see the woman bleeding from the beating
Of one who claims he loves her
You are not disturbed
Because their sobs remain unheard
And the bruises and broken bones
And the cold broken furnace
In that ******* broken home
Doesn’t mean thing to you
Because you can’t see it

Well, I hold those horrors in my head
Plant painful points of ink
So you will be forced to think
Instead
Of ignoring
Cause it is to agonizing or boring
I write it down so it can be found
But the truth is that you will
Mostly likely ignore all the horrors until
They become the reality of someone
You love

— The End —