"recepticle" poems - Hello Poetry

I chew my way through nickles I earn from angry tourists ambivalently tossing percentages into a jar. I've learned that some of the toughest people come from the proletariat. I fear the people that have worked at McDonalds for 20 years. I kneel before the Knights of Mediocrity. I check my mail and I come back with a fist full of loonies and quarters. Payday. My great big nose reflects back in the copper before I put the coins into my mouth-recepticle. It is barely bearable. It tastes like blood, but is it from the metal or is it the coin cutting my gums? With the sheer yield of my fields was I able to get it down. I wash it down with some OJ. Of the queerest men and women I have met, most of them were from the same world as I came from (and to which I will inevitably return). The world of the workforce. I am merely ailed by itchy feet and a severe fear of placidity. I work hard. But only if my work is paid in mileage. If every penny spent is a road to anywhere but here. A former colleague of mine developed prominent ****** ticks from working as a cashier at a market. The world falls harder on the content, because their yields shield most of the fall. People die both in front of desks and between steel beams. Two men sit in silence, playing chess. Suddenly, an argument arises and both parties toss theories of chivalry between one another before one of the men yell, "I don't think it's quite that black and white!"

0

Sep 14, 2014

Sep 14, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC

peter-christian-ness

Steady Diet of Nickles

I chew my way through nickles I earn from angry tourists ambivalently tossing percentages into a jar. I've learned that some of the toughest people come from the proletariat. I fear the people that have worked at McDonalds for 20 years. I kneel before the Knights of Mediocrity. I check my mail and I come back with a fist full of loonies and quarters. Payday. My great big nose reflects back in the copper before I put the coins into my mouth-recepticle. It is barely bearable. It tastes like blood, but is it from the metal or is it the coin cutting my gums? With the sheer yield of my fields was I able to get it down. I wash it down with some OJ. Of the queerest men and women I have met, most of them were from the same world as I came from (and to which I will inevitably return). The world of the workforce. I am merely ailed by itchy feet and a severe fear of placidity. I work hard. But only if my work is paid in mileage. If every penny spent is a road to anywhere but here. A former colleague of mine developed prominent ****** ticks from working as a cashier at a market. The world falls harder on the content, because their yields shield most of the fall. People die both in front of desks and between steel beams. Two men sit in silence, playing chess. Suddenly, an argument arises and both parties toss theories of chivalry between one another before one of the men yell, "I don't think it's quite that black and white!"

6

Fought your case, hit the base now rage till you lose your face! I'm space, you're space, we're all lost to the last drop and there is no reason for the pinball tournament to stop We'll keep the cogs turnin till the babies stop shaking I'm outside trying to rattle sheep while hurds are swarming in from sleep My brothers coping with a lost coin toss and cigarette burns between his toes All the mean while no one noticed some cats crept in and stole all our gold I'll fold to hold it Forgetting every milasecond I kept waisting my ability to forge sworn favors and excellent sense of humor for slackers and loose birds Floating over broken bones bein stoked makin sure we're lettin the fires burn Puttin the ashes in a modest recepticle and lay beneath the flowers Layin in the lye for hours waitin to breakdown the spectacle of lights and superpowers If I knew the purpose of the game I probably wouldn't play If I knew how to make money I probably wouldn't want it If knew how to not pop tires My *** probably stop getting fired But I'm tired and can't have half a nights rest for every moment is spent trekking on misguided intent with good motives in my head I help the dead find their place in the middle coaching along singing the song all on the fiddle like that little ****** the riddle you bet your last skittle for a cup of brain sizzle And I never said this was the best but my arrogance has you suckas restting in heck

0

Mar 19, 2015

Mar 19, 2015 at 4:36 AM UTC

guy

Arrogance

Fought your case, hit the base now rage till you lose your face! I'm space, you're space, we're all lost to the last drop and there is no reason for the pinball tournament to stop We'll keep the cogs turnin till the babies stop shaking I'm outside trying to rattle sheep while hurds are swarming in from sleep My brothers coping with a lost coin toss and cigarette burns between his toes All the mean while no one noticed some cats crept in and stole all our gold I'll fold to hold it Forgetting every milasecond I kept waisting my ability to forge sworn favors and excellent sense of humor for slackers and loose birds Floating over broken bones bein stoked makin sure we're lettin the fires burn Puttin the ashes in a modest recepticle and lay beneath the flowers Layin in the lye for hours waitin to breakdown the spectacle of lights and superpowers If I knew the purpose of the game I probably wouldn't play If I knew how to make money I probably wouldn't want it If knew how to not pop tires My *** probably stop getting fired But I'm tired and can't have half a nights rest for every moment is spent trekking on misguided intent with good motives in my head I help the dead find their place in the middle coaching along singing the song all on the fiddle like that little ****** the riddle you bet your last skittle for a cup of brain sizzle And I never said this was the best but my arrogance has you suckas restting in heck

20

Lowly recepticle. Lovely light. I haven't done anything. At night my city looks like the oily barrel of a stolen gun, but we call her pretty anyway, because pride is tragic. I read all the death records of my triplet fathers in a fugue. Mom told me not to, she doesnt want to be seen as a hardwood floor. Fine with me. I'm breeding aliens for their cooking skills, to fatten me up with soft bread and cake. They want to talk about my **** so I'll tell anecdotes about girls and fruit trees. Each has his own crucifix. Each has his own curve. At the end of the world one will save me from the zombie corpses of my fathers. Before we leave I apologize for their misfortune. And I am depressed. Utopia ate me out while perched on a tree branch, and it grew a tail, and I vomited. Since I want to be happy I ask my word children to quiet down, to cut off their tails. I call my mother to warn her of the end of days, only to be told I was acting like that man. I asked which one. I needed to know, but across the line a timer went off, and I knew one of my aliens was making her zuchinni bread, so I hung up.

0

Jul 31, 2015

Jul 31, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC

Mote

Relative

Lowly recepticle. Lovely light. I haven't done anything. At night my city looks like the oily barrel of a stolen gun, but we call her pretty anyway, because pride is tragic. I read all the death records of my triplet fathers in a fugue. Mom told me not to, she doesnt want to be seen as a hardwood floor. Fine with me. I'm breeding aliens for their cooking skills, to fatten me up with soft bread and cake. They want to talk about my **** so I'll tell anecdotes about girls and fruit trees. Each has his own crucifix. Each has his own curve. At the end of the world one will save me from the zombie corpses of my fathers. Before we leave I apologize for their misfortune. And I am depressed. Utopia ate me out while perched on a tree branch, and it grew a tail, and I vomited. Since I want to be happy I ask my word children to quiet down, to cut off their tails. I call my mother to warn her of the end of days, only to be told I was acting like that man. I asked which one. I needed to know, but across the line a timer went off, and I knew one of my aliens was making her zuchinni bread, so I hung up.

1