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