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ZWS Jul 2019
Dead TV channels and corn puffs on floor like skinemax and taxes on the poor
Stained coffee tables and sunlight through the glass pane door
The aftermath of ****** and scores
All of us have some kind of drug in our veins and pores

That ***** outdoor patio, with the edgy tattooed girls
Where we used to turn over chairs to find pearls
The 90% would always put us into a swirl
The moonshine would always help us unfurl

Saints on high our porches rumble
Where secrets held are worse than those under the Vatican’s
But we’re as dead as the mannequins
And we’re lost to our ambitions that we humble

Like kindred souls around a fire we lost ourselves to gravity
Our mornings filled with sweet nothings, our nights with serendipity
Where we found peace and home in entropy
In the lull of a dogtown in the middle of the world
Josh Elis Apr 2018
Boxford (Trees)

Something wicked
Towering over
All that lives below,
All seems quiet
Until a storm initiates
Armageddon on the lives beneath.

Newburyport (Snowball Fight)

You ever hang out
With a dude you think
Is a complete dip-****
But then you realize,
After a wholesome
Snowball fight, that
He’s actually still *******
Terrible?

Salem (Fake Witches)

Demons are supposed
To be horrifying-
Morbid creatures
Who wish the destruction
Of all mortal begins.
So yes, I’d consider
You salem freaks
“witches.”

Haverhill (Badasses)

The towers here are
Reinforced with pure
Awesomeness-
If something was going
To fall, it would have
Done so already.

Dogtown (Real Witches)

The four mile hike
Was terrifying.
Each sound
Proliferating
In my mind
As we walked.
There were witches there alright,
And at anytime, they could extend
A cold hand and pull you into the night.

Plum Island (Heath)

Oh ******* ****,
My tank is low
Why did I drive
So far alone?
It’s cold and baren
Not a life form in sight,
I’m about to break down-

-And campout for the night.
Hey! I live in the forehead of the elephant that is Massachusetts, if you're at all familiar with the its shape. That region is called Essex, and it's a very unique and strange place. Most of H.P. Lovecraft's work was inspired by the constant fluctuations in weather, rocky seashores, and omnipresent fog that Essex County possesses.  Most of my poems are also inspired by Essex County's wild nature but with a more romance/neo-gothic outlook. Mix that with a whole lot of teen angst and you'd have what style I'm going for. This poem is pretty much a break down of themes I write about and experience! If you're at all familiar with the places HMU! I want to know what you think about them too!
Al Oct 2018
Down with dogtown,
carving the concrete
and riding the rails.

— The End —