"cutscene" poems
ok
the minute it takes..
to trace the call,
to ducktape the suspects ******* face,
is the same minute a family home explodes in a cross section cutscene like 24.
more prisoners escape,
****** pretty, but they're spies.
suckers got forks stuck in their eyes.
the trucker died, his hat now a subtle disguise.
soft talk and the novice gaurd complied.
I told the brass this whole ******* place needed modernised.
shot gun cabinets unlatched,
the last batch of canteen fat contained celephaned grendades.
outside it rains and mud slides thick as the chase vehicles flip onto their sides.
the helicopter follows a costumed imposter through the shadows of a suburban night.
people thrown out the way on the street like extras in a detective series.
"Freeze: get on your ******* knees"
"Ive got nothing to lose, ive got the the ******* hostage and im offering a trade off
don't ******* shoot,
or ill put a hole in this ***** bigger than you can fix pig, twitching at the trigger,listen quick
take a step back or ill do it, push me piece of **** cop".
blood on the concrete runs thin as it navigates and mixes with no forgiveness or mission.
track back until the dead are insect sized, centred in the wide shot of the city, wait a beat then credits rise.
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
life is a poorly designed game
too much dead space
loading screens that last all night
unskippable cutscenes
irrelevant boss fights and tasks
no cheat codes
and the story has no direction
where is the fast forward in my life
i am in the between of everything
can i play my life
like I play video games
grinding through obstacles
till i reach the next level and the next cutscene
can i skip to the main storyline of my life
all that waits for me here
is cutting down monsters
till im strong enough to fight the boss
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
I walked into your life an actress,
putting on a show for you,
miming who I thought I was
with lifeless limbs exerting so much effort,
nearly hollow did I feel,
typecast, merely trying to not collapse in front of you
like a miserable cutscene signaled too quick;
yes, it is most unfortunate
you fell in love with an actress
playing a role she didn’t know how to keep.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 11:26 PM UTC
I'm sitting at a stop sign with my tongue tied & my brain fried,
oozy sunny-side-up on the pavement
they tell me "look at the bright side" as if the sun could talk,
but no, I'm shooting blanks
on a half-tank of chemical reuptake;
here's a mouthful of soap, keep your insides clean
stuff a drawer with hope for the rainy days;
'cause we worship the heat like we're trying to get cancer,
I'll spill from my lips what I don't want to eat,
and worship every dancer for a flaw that knows them better;
insert needles into inked-up skin, then burn out every letter,
we'll burn that bridge when we get there,
make it a public monument
picking pennies out of muddy boot-prints,
but **** it, if the shoe fits
keep your luck in a jar so it can't run out like your bank account,
resuscitate me in a desert so I can get used to the drought;
& we've all got a cutscene we'd rather not talk about
so here's the uncensored take,
after I spoon-feed you the low-stakes version
(try not to choke)
this is every mistake on a half-tank of reuptake
try to fill up your plate while your bank goes for broke;
take it up a notch and watch me free-fall down the ropes
while you climb the ladder with 5 dead bodies and a *** tape,
call it a playdate with fate
& see how long the relapse takes
after your firewall fills with smoke.
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 4:44 PM UTC