the process of killing a new favorite song

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
“Everything's been said before
Nothin' left to say anymore
When it's all the same
You can ask for it by name”

-from the song, “This is the New Shit,” by Marilyn Manson

Submitted: November 19, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 19, 2011



and so you’ve stumbled upon a new tune,

a new beat,

a new assemblage of lyrics & distorted guitar,

beat & lyrics,

twang & acoustic guitar

all meshed together &

you cannot get enough of it.


at first you hear it somewhere that you had not


be it on the radio, the television, at a friend’s house,

or any number of the ways in which people can

consume music via the net these days,

legally or illegally---

all the same,

you now hold the song in your possession,

so to speak,

downloaded somewhere in your presence,

pc, pod or phone,

or maybe if you can still find it,

burned by that laser onto those fossils that are called,


compact discs.


the melody, the riff, the hook,

buries itself within your brain

just behind your retinas & it

stirs, it dances as you agree in kind to

memorize the lyrics &

encrypt the rest inside the walls of your skull,

tattooed on your heart,

flowing within the veins of your body

beating like the heart

throbbing like an orgasm

electrified like some unlucky wanderer who got stuck

in an open field in the middle of a

lightening storm.


but you take it with you on the train

you take it into work

you listen to it on your lunch break

you listen to it walking home

you listen to it fixing dinner

you listen to it during dinner

you tap the vein & shoot

tap the vein again & shoot

drive the needle in

drive the needle in

drive the needle in again

cranking the volume more than the last time

like a junkie whose high is dwindling

like a whore/john who just can’t feel anything


like a soldier/cop who no longer cringes at the sight of


produced by a violent kill.


desensitized & lost alone in a room with a melody

that no longer means anything---

closing your eyes &

staring down within at the death of

a song you only just stumbled upon a few

days ago.

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