| Poem: Submit | Random | Best | Worst | Recent | Comments |
|
Shampoo and Condition (Free verse) by Luzr The Razor catches on vomit dribble dried on my chin
The tylenol's sitting next to my cup of rum doctored coffee
Eyes straining from absorbing the daily comics
Ears tuning into the catchy song sung to drag me awake
Feet shuffling back and forth toward the shower
Water beading across my head drumming small shouts of shock
A mad dash to get dressed to impress
Arms doing as they do best
Reaching across the house in slight haste
Cancer rushing to take my breath
Punch the clock and walk to the back
Push a pen across paper and talk til I'm sick to death
Get out to my car and call up memories of friends
See what I've missed, then drive across town 3 times
To play the same old drinking games
Talk til I've said whatever it takes
Push the bull, til the glass breaks
Whatever is left standing better than shattered
Take home to be beaten and battered
Then dump it outside where it belongs
The satisfaction substaining me until
I wake up in the middle of the night
Just until I remember
Brew a fresh pot of rum doctered coffee
Rinse Wash Repeat
Up the ladder:
Forward My Mail
Down the ladder:
innocent voyeur
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 7.4615383
Posted: April 1, 2004 8:45 AM PST; Last modified: April 1, 2004 8:45 AM PSTWeighted score: 6.7995286 Overall Rank: 407 Comments:
My routine has been quite as meaningless for the past 2 months. Perhaps even more so. It can summed in 4 words... eat, sleep, eat, sleep....... Wish I could put it words like you
Wondering if you could somehow structure the thing to not sound like a shopping list of ennui; to flow a little better.
couple good lines, the starting one in particular. But there are a few things that nag, like why dress to impress when there is vomit on ones face? I mean, other than the line _sounds_ cute - (maybe better in another poem, but then thats been done already I think). There's prolly a very nice poem in here after a little distillation.
I thought it was a definition of ennui, too, until the "Cancer" line. Makes the "dress to impress" a little more somber.
i cant tell if u have a hangover or are experiencing side effects from radiation therapy..
I have no idea what a hangover feels like, much less radiation, so I'm gonna say both but niether in the way you are thinking
Perhaps you could tell me what sort of 'constant partying' you've been doing that doesn't involve a hangover. Do people's parents make you go home at 10:30? Or are you under the pathetic delusion that you can have a good time without drugs?
I don't suffer hangovers. I never have. I either wake up sober or drunk, no pain what so ever.
Yeah, but you're still about 12. Wait until you get older.
Twelve? Come now, I'm not that old. Why I'd almost be to the point of Midlife Crisis in this Day and Age were I near so old as Twelve. I'm only 7.576 years old.
Wacky numbers: beloved crutch of dullards everywhere.
257 view(s)
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
PS- "Look beyond the surface" is a fucking laugh riot. Beyond this poem's surface is much, much more surface.
That said, the one interpretation I missed is that TPBOD is your name, which makes me sorry for having made so much fun of your poem. I wouldn't have been so harsh if I'd known it was you.