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softcomponent Nov 2013
she was reading haruki murakami
and licking her lips of muffin crum
bs - - i, placated via cellphone, calle
d to leave a message for a friend ab
out Oscar Wilde's De Profundis  a
s i think i forgot it on his couch spea
k-easy speak-fast distract myself wit
h cigarette headrush rants and slow-
mo's she moves close gazing as i c
uriously whisper back with connect
ed pupil and she comes so so close - - g
arbage can next to me close - - she keep
s peeking at me, pulls out norwegian w
ood scans road i awkwardly pull out an
thology of chinese poems from backpa
ck to possibly impress! she keeps peek
ing peeking peeking i almost start conve
rsation but heart-beats race-track grand
prix miss my bus and i know it almost re
trieve cigarette from pocket (ghoulish goo
dy) second-guess she may think it unattra
ctive? no shiney faced race horse (do u ev
en lift, bro - - no dude i don't, i literally do
n't lift
) cement truck clamours past and i n
ot really paying attention to the ******* c
hinese poems anyway begin to read the way
the sun glances off the spinning barrel like c
hinese poetry - - glancing always to newspea
k my way into awkwardity so ******* he
adrush
she walks away, turns on heel to loo
k me in darting eyeballs (are u coming? i sup
pose so, jesus
) i clamour onto my feet and foll
ow her pretend to be checking bus-times ya fu
ckin goof 15X arrives and she departs without
a smoke-signal we were close we were close we
were close and i missed my bus waiting for my
self to brave-and-snake
so i walk away pretend-
careless and finally retrieve cigarette from pocket
read the smoke like chinese poetry (ghoulish goody)
Maria Etre Aug 2018
Eli
Eloquence
doe(s) not always
conve(y) what
(M)ostly (pa)rts my mouth
remember
(t)he (h)eart is
reall(y)
the most
articulate of
all
"If I Could Give You My Eyes" Series
Olga Valerevna Aug 2017
on fringes of fingers of hands I don't know
I watched my whole body retreat to my soul
and now that I'm one with a body unseen
I'm more of a human than I've ever been
see, Truth has a layer of skin in itself
a skeleton clothed in eternity's breath
the one conversation you cannot ignore
it carries you forward and promises more
than anyone ever could possibly dare
a fire that smothers what shouldn't be there
hello, are you free?
Jack P May 2018
oh i do not care
i refu
se
to be
behol
den
to conve
ntion

disco ball of sinew and blood
fished out of little snack box (insomnia chronicles)

watch the workmen work
in their glitter suits
and steel-capped boots
resolutely and arrogantly un-You

disco ball of feeling and rhythm
crawling out of tv screen (little samara says hello)

little wastebasket of hope
floats torpidly down muddy rivers
carrying crumpled paper from the control room
to a pockmarked sky

disco ball of muscle and valve
boiling in a coffee cup (every week the same burn)

ode to the sky and its thinning hair
and the pothole where i was found
by my mother
on the most expensive day of the year

disco ball of not much at all
spinning 'round in an empty hall.
i have never been more focused

— The End —