the crawl

Abora

10/24/17 2:48 PM

 

Sardines in a can

A hazy red LED cannery

The whiskey is old

How do you fuck up moonshine

An all red, all way stop at the back of a parking lot



Thumping bass and tossing shots

No one wants to be conscious here

No one wants to be who they are here

It’s all masks on masks

Nesting dolls trying to get laid

Without shedding too many layers

 

This boisterous darkroom

With violent red hues

Stopbaths full of liquor

The people dip themselves in it to develop

Darkened visages blooming in color

 

It’s a scrapbook saloon

Everyone trying to be memorable

Cutting away the lesser thoughts

Stamping ink on opening lines

Dancing in crowded beer rationing lines

 

I see why those traffic stopping revelers wander

They ran out of faces

Stripped down to skulls by butcher knife rejections and

caustic bone bleaching stutters

Going from each seedy slaughterhouse to the next

Waiting to be shorn

  • Author: Big Swifty (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 28th, 2017 16:39
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 16
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