The Where-was Baseball Field In River Nonsense

The inconstant forest is constantly inconstant.

I watched a pale drowned girl

Murder a man thrice

While he stood alone in the junkyard

With his lit cigarette.
She swam through mass and form

As though everything, all

Was water.

 

Me, the flying serpent

Watched with the eyes

Of a fourth person

Lost in skyward streams

Painted with blacks and whites

From that divine ceiling,

A brush stroked grey.

Here am I, I there is

Of the this for which
I was made, me mine

Mind mined of the eye

That is broken time, I?

Yes, me, or we? Us,

All inside the asylum,

Hello and welcome,

Goodbye, stay for dinner,
We’re having pancakes
Glazed in blood,

Worry but don’t

For it’s only genocide;
All says laugh,

And all time is up and gone,

Saying are what you, no

Real.

 

Forever midnight

On the eternal clock

Upon the wall; I

Did turn the hands,

And spin the wheel

With loaded chambers

I crafted, or was it you?
Walk through the barrel

With me so we can meet he,

He that made me and drifts

Still, over the river rage.

Welcome, this needle layered

Baseball field is my home

So sit down; the corpses

Are in the box

And we can make snow angels

With the ghosts.

 

Oh,

He is here?

By the chimney on the cliff,

He stands by the fire

Where I died, paper in hand,

Wonder what the scores

Were, today? Bang,
I shot my father.

My sheets are warm

With his blood,

My warm sheets,

My sheets, sheets--

Reviews

[Bacchus]

Hauntingly tripping.
Drugged out and hate filled.
Train-wreck, can't look away though.
Dreamlike nightmare that I can't shake.

I think those are all my feelings and thoughts on this. Well done.

[TheRaven]

All of that was definitely part of my intention. This is the first time I've written something that peels back the layer of dreams I've had, and my darker thoughts. Thank you for your thoughts, I appreciate them!