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Literature Text
floral quilt & floral lace
bitter wrinkled limp
my bed sheets smell like chlorine
but the teddy bears don't flinch
splintering plywood & composite
draped in batik sarongs
fairy lights and fireflies
a bible kept beneath the bong
bitter wrinkled limp
my bed sheets smell like chlorine
but the teddy bears don't flinch
splintering plywood & composite
draped in batik sarongs
fairy lights and fireflies
a bible kept beneath the bong
Literature
sleep
the boy with the kaleidoscope hands
offers me a revolver and we take turns
smothering plumes of breath and killing
lapselands.
bags of grieving skeletons hang from your
cliff eyes, dreading the moment
when they will have to fly.
Literature
On strength
A sunlit cobweb -
only the spider knows
how many times
it broke
Literature
It's Burning Down Anyway
"You shouldn't play with matches," she said. "You'll hurt yourself."
I lit a cigarette - with a lighter - and remembered Annie Venter telling me that in the eighth grade as I lit matches behind the school. I had stared at her and lit the whole matchbook on fire, and then I had dropped it in the grass. She made me stomp it out.
I stood on the porch of my apartment, listening to the rain and staring out at the fog and the clouds and thinking that somewhere out there, Annie Venter was probably sleeping, not thinking about the time she told some stupid kid not to play with matches. I flicked the lighter on and off a few times to see if it would
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soon I will write something worthwhile, I promise
© 2014 - 2024 reechy
Comments20
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This, not worthwhile?! It's a little rough, sure, but it's also very powerful. I love it's absurdity and especially the stark contrast of "a bible kept beneath the bong."