Published February 25, 2012
Evil in the supplement of a shell,
in an unfed dog,
in inane thoughts of dance on unemphatic surfaces.
All the demons lateral to kitchens!
All the wholesome golems in the guest bed!
Your noir-core priests must be bombastic
and attack with a whack of the true wood.
Upstairs, in the last decorated room,
we are having such trouble extracting
Lucifer from the lamp-shades and portacribs.
Answers summed-up in the breath mints.
A siege seen in the sink. Now,
wolf down that orange, obsess over citrus.
Each bed bespeaks a body, a trite trim
of half-there orgasm. Neither scream nor whimper
needs your grace or thesis. Don't believe
the sill-stalkers or peach-keepers—all the orchard
limbs are far too low for lynchings
but that'll get your guard down—
a pit is a well, a place to shove the sick.
Know, at least, that there is something out there.
And you're the loner with a combat flute.
The camera is stutteringly erotic—succubus
in full sprint of day, glutting on
the reciprocal of your lunch- light.
You always knew the house-cat
would end you. You never felt quite easy
around the turtlenecks and thermostats.
You are up to your eyelids
in vigilance, and you're running out
of holy things to roar.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
141,452 Literary Works • 674,463 Reviews
You are insanely interesting. The poetry is one thing, of course, but the voice the poetry is carrying through is something distinctly you, and distinctly of it's own variety or brand. If you put this next to twenty other poems of similar topic, I'm pretty sure anyone who has chanced to read a few of your pieces would know this one was yours. And that is insanely interesting. I spent most of my time reading this trying to pick apart what was trademarked as you and having quite a bit of trouble doing so.
It might have been the reference to citrus. Probably.
Anyways, the poem carried itself well. The voice was not overly pretentious, spouting on about wrong verses right and vice versa . It was simply stating in an indifferent tone as if uninterested in what should occur but more enticed over what has. And what continues to happen. The entire idea is doted upon in that voice, so much so that I wonder where your true opinion was and if there was a true opinion here.
Which brought me to the thought that maybe you don't have an opinion. That it might simply be an idea that was brushed upon because it interested you but did not move you in a certain direction. I wonder if that's the case at all, which is enough to keep my head swimming. But I digress, of course! I'm sure I'm quite far off the mark, which is usually the case when it comes to something I can't wrap my head around.
Anyways, the topic was one that I found rather bitter. It left a tang in the back of my throat which I was curious to understand. I found it foreboding to say the least mostly because of the fact that it was mused open rather than stated in harsh wording.
Ah, I don't quite know where I was going with this. Useless reviews seem to be my specialty these days. But that's alright. If there is one thing I can say about this is that I thoroughly enjoyed it. The wording, for instance, and the comparisons were lovely as well. I got the picture that he seemingly reconsidered what's worth deeming immoral, and what he, himself, has committed immorally in so few and so many words.
Either or, it was interesting. Maybe I'll read this again when I'm not half-asleep and running off on tangents.
~Walker