DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

sit place

Member since 2003 · Posted 13 Oct 2003 · 4 comments

I sit behind my face in a forgotten little, dark room in the back of my head peering out where slivers of light fly in jabbing, stabbing reflecting cadaver red empathy rains down hot tears on the inside numb concrete outside split brain behind shit face & ball-point penis.

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mean 5.00 weighted 5.00 rank 7614 views 209 View voting details →

6 votes so far. Yours would make 7.6 votes so far

4 comments

[7] god'swife 13-Oct-03/2:17 PM Reply

You're interesting. Do you ever perfom these?(they seem like performance)

[n/a] kingit 13-Oct-03/3:20 PM Reply

I need a gimmick-- like stabbing chicken or making creme brule, while doing the read

[7] Shuushin 13-Oct-03/5:35 PM Reply

my poor aching [split] brain.

I keep trying
to see
patterns.

ooo - you could d o u b l e s p a c e them too!(seriously).

Maybe with chicken brule, btw.

[7] richa 14-Oct-03/7:27 AM Reply

some nice lines, if thats what they are.

the layout doesn't seem to add to the poem, I think it detracts