Sid

Sid Vicious, Sex Pistols bassist, on the night of February 2nd, 1979.

 

It’s a permanent temporary

as you watch your skin tone fade faster than

the minutes and the seconds

on the s****y plastic clock that hangs

above your bed.

You’re too strung out to write anything legible.

Hell, you can barely shake your head

to wipe away the drops of sweat that trickle

from your forehead

into your eye sockets

where it seeps into corners

and flows

over

and under

your thoughts.  

Just look at yourself,

soaked and bloodied by your own god-damn hands--

same ones you tried to change the world with

in a lifetime unknown to most,

and the scars that ripple

across your shrunken wrists

tell me that maybe

just maybe

the world got to you first.

 

It’s 4 a.m., Sid.

You’ve already cut the cord--

go ahead, say your final

goodbyes and blink

those last few

words.

 

Reviews

[Travis Lawrence]

"to wipe away the drops of sweat that trickle
from your forehead
into your eye sockets
where it seeps into corners
and flows
over
and under
your thoughts."

Great use of line breaks and imagery, you talk about how his sweat "flows" and then present these line breaks to give that sense while reading, it quickens the pace. One thing, though, because it's "drops of sweat" in the plural, you should probably say "where they seep into corners" for consistency sake.

I'm very impressed with your work, keep writing!!

[Folsom]

Oh geez :) Huge Sex Pistols fan... (actually how I found this :D)

I love the line "You've already cut the cord--" it has a very stinging quality to it... if that makes sense at all? :P

Very good write :)