Salt Rock

Salt Rock

A Poem by HighBrowCulture

Caught fanning again in the exhaust pipe.

Shelled ten cents out for rolling paper.

Tell myself, tell myself- ‘fight fire with fire’-

Water just floods the bathroom where we used to undress and finger-paint some Punt on our skin anyways- ‘sides, rather have dry ash than damp’.

Spit in my hands.

Light up. Inhale. Exeunt the ghost of her lies.

Stare into the peep-hole palms of my gurney-colored hands. 

They held a moment once.

They do now. But it’s wicker.

Once they held hers…

Look up and oil spill the memory in waterfall snow-light.

Saw someone mouth something behind the gas pump.

‘Leave out the fly trap-

Tease a moth into beating itself against a Clementine testicle-

You will never get over her.’

I kick up dust, bone gravel, and salt, say-

‘Yeah--- f**k.’

© 2010 HighBrowCulture


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Featured Review

He isn’t afraid of death,
Held it in his arms,
Watched it walk away.

He swears it looked back.

He was told
Not to be sorry
But to treat the next one
Like love wasn’t deep
As he thought it to be.

Now he chalks words from dust,
Nourishes hardwood with saline,
And gasps for air that ain’t there,
Anymore-
So it goes.

funny how we put the same poem up at the same damn time

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

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em
since when
did i start needing
to ramble to nothing
and no one in particular

here i am
surrounded by the
exquisite beauty of your
ornate silences

whispering back
to the sound of my own breath

sewing you
rapidly and definitively
into the fabric of my being

and all this while
you proclaim
having walked away
unscathed

why do i still remember
each one of your scars
as if
they were mine?

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

sometimes I read a poet who is so clever that I have nothing constructive to say, so glad to have read you today

Posted 13 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

F**K! thats all i say too. and hollowman f**k it is what i say to yours. lmao! im pissed!

Posted 13 Years Ago


Wow. Rare that a piece forces me to slow down and read so carefully. The images you painted were brilliant and tecnique was spot on. Loved the gritty feel of this...like humanity's last high. "Yeah---f**k" f**k yeah!

Posted 13 Years Ago


He isn’t afraid of death,
Held it in his arms,
Watched it walk away.

He swears it looked back.

He was told
Not to be sorry
But to treat the next one
Like love wasn’t deep
As he thought it to be.

Now he chalks words from dust,
Nourishes hardwood with saline,
And gasps for air that ain’t there,
Anymore-
So it goes.

funny how we put the same poem up at the same damn time

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on December 15, 2010
Last Updated on December 15, 2010

Author

HighBrowCulture
HighBrowCulture

VA



About
Writing to create public disorder. Even if it means crucifying a Messiah. more..

Writing
I I

A Chapter by HighBrowCulture



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