On Nostalgia T.V.,
The Lady in the Dark Room is the most requested
In a realm of high definition.
An obsession and picture at it's most ecletic.
Back in a better time,
I washed up on the pier a glass man carrying shattered thoughts, in grizzled palms.
All consumed by awe of greenish-brown seas on Charm City's Amistad.
Blackened white to rust the rust colored promenade,
Laying me to rest with diesel churned lullabies
Through roaring applause,
They ripped through serene
Clawed their way to center scene.
Demons of song and dance
Prancing gracefully with blood stained ties
Slowly fingering my ears with the new gossip
From the Dark Prince.
Street scholars fed those monsters,
Starving artists feasting for the flesh of lime light.
Fitting, considering the dense heat of Hell
Raging from that kitchen.
Hustlers, thugs, and crooks hailing from the East and West
Preparing meals fit for kings, seasoned by Newport cigarettes.
Boom box broke up the quiet evenings
With our pearly white patrons.
Flash.
Angels feeding on luxury!
Demons providing charity to the meek!
Brilliant colors numbing every sense of being!
Damning blindness illuminating to a path of goddom!
Flash.
I saw her for the first time.
Opulent flawlessness flowing ever gently over perfection.
(Hyperboles held at caution to not undervalue something so eclectic)
Truly beauty incarnate.
“Couple weeks in and
It was back to the same shit:
Dickheads, waiting for a wet hot center,
Dismembered our diamond in the rough;
She moans as she crawls to the dock,
Hoping this flock of black sheep
Drunk-drive into a ditch.
Galley niggas, keep coughing up more body bags.
I’m the only one sifting through trash.
Hold on….
There she goes again.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
Even the way she walks, waltzing
To the beat of my heart.”
Ten seconds to catch the rythym.
Sweat.
Grime.
Anxiety.
Weak Smile.
Clenched Teeth.
Darting Eyes.
Still Unaware?
Quick Breaths.
Open Mouth.
Absolute Filth.
A Yes?
Time.
“We visited Dionysus and pompously pious, I was.
Elated by conversation, riding on the inflated high of my ego,
Drooling over her dress, musing over myself.
Etiquette of a rented mule, it was a contest of brutish phrases
And tracing roads among her memories.
Could this crude mask wither such a flower?”
Indie records spun clean on the needle.
Two bodies breathing, statuesque.
A familiar sweat on my palms.
She saw through my façade
As every short-lived locking of the eyes
Took an iron fist to thoughts.
The music melded with the smell of layered paint,
Living solely for that taste.
A Kiss:
Every sense, muted, crackled alive,
Electrified, a million volt spine.
Lightning never caressed lips twice.
“Self-hatred is a helluva thing.
Devour dreams in an instant.
Takes no prisoners, tossing nonsinners
Into Hades.
Because a kiss to remember is far too soon
And tide rinsed out potential in the guise of the moon."
Took my sorrows and buried them six feet under a skirt,
But unholy conduct with Lady Misery was never enough.
“Early spring,
Cold, bitter, fleeting.
Blood smeared on my jeans outside the local market.
Cellular phone constantly ringing.
A blunt knife worked all night to mine out my life.
Trembling smile on straight face,
Thinking back to my razorblades.
I still have no idea why I called the police.”
Off-white walls to match his coffin,
He blossomed in the psych ward
Gut swollen from gorging on my daily dose of lithium,
Salting every bridge, corroding the stone.
“We are legion, and forever alone."
Man in the mirror, new era loathing:
The hours twist into days, days contort into weeks
And beautiful tools made ugly by flesh and bone rest in my steady hands.
Question-less torture for our wretched grin
Those putrid brown eyes have lost too many comrades.
The mania sets in.
The dead won't stop whispering.
Atop a corpse, dig my hands
Into tepid crimson seas
Feeling for any corrections to be made.
And then I can't stand that face,
That stupid fucking face.
It's mine,
Ours,
His,
Whoever the fuck you are.
I beat the brain, dying memories clenched in each fist,
Searching for bullets to keep the word of my wrists,
And empty the grey matter on my mind.
But, she remains a perfect woman set in time.
Her shadow among carbon copies
Fooling eyes wide open, and dreams slammed shut.
Cataclysmic love for a clusterfuck.
