deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ink
Threaded narcoleptic zombies
parting eachother insides with
the skill of a mortician.
Incisive blue veins routing our
limbs like maps of a badly drawn
Sweden.
It took two never-were's to get to
this place.
Our heads smolder with after-taste.
The room plays tic-tac-toe with fire.
And I, I just hang there like an ignorant
Van Gogh.
parting eachother insides with
the skill of a mortician.
Incisive blue veins routing our
limbs like maps of a badly drawn
Sweden.
It took two never-were's to get to
this place.
Our heads smolder with after-taste.
The room plays tic-tac-toe with fire.
And I, I just hang there like an ignorant
Van Gogh.
Published 23rd Mar 2011
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likes 6
reading list entries 1
comments 9
reads 1221
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The author encourages honest critique.
23rd Mar 2011 3:06am
23rd Mar 2011 5:26am
23rd Mar 2011 4:18am
If "Threaded narcoleptic zombies" doesn't catch someone's attention right away then nothing will. Amazing job.
23rd Mar 2011 5:26am
23rd Mar 2011 3:16pm
I really like that part about veins coming together to make up a map, makes me think of skin stretched out. I think the idea of the material everything is made up of charting a journey of some sort if fascinating - history being trapped like flies in amber.
23rd Mar 2011 10:08pm
24th Mar 2011 3:07am
absolutly stunning. i love the wording. the imagry from this ahmazing. keep writing, i look forward to reading much moe from you[:
9th Apr 2011 7:27am
9th Apr 2011 8:09am
