Give me a secret
Another secret
Give me the jack down blazer fist
Give me the rundown gossip fits
Give me the black star rotting core
Give me the milk toast humble bore
Give me the ancient chinese script
Give me the pulsar teenage lips
Give me the papers pedigree
Give me the shoeshine anarchy
I think my head is going to explode
I think my mind is remote controlled
I think my blood runs desolate
'Cos baby I'm a waking disease
Give me the boom box bottle bitch
Give me the tree trunk tangled witch
Give me the babies missile child
Give me the pistols molten miles
Publish. Read. Get Read.
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Like the minds eye thudding on the back seat of your car, begging to be let free. View table of contents...
Submitted: Feb 11, 2007 Reads: 64 Comments: 3 Likes: 0
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Comments:
Read it before, but it still holds sway.
Posted: Feb 11, 2007
Fuck Me, this is good.
I can hear you shout this over rooftops under a half-moon in daytime
"Give me the shoeshine anarchy
Give me the boom box bottle bitch"
This is very inspiring and I insist on joining your fan-list now.
Posted: Feb 16, 2007
I like this a great deal. I understand what you meant by comparing your poems to songs: that is what it feels like. I love the imagrey (spolling?) in the title and the words. Good meeting you, by the way.
Posted: Mar 9, 2007
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Love, Poetry, Death, Life, Poem, Romance, Pain, Fantasy, Hope, Sad, Sex, Hate, God, Horror, War, Humor, Hurt, Sadness, Loss, Dark, Fiction, Depression, Heart, Family, Friendship.