[untitled]

June 29, 2008 1:15 AM

 

i hope you didn't come here looking for a "good time,"

we've got nothing-but booze and a  WRONG WAY sign,

you waltz in here

eyes rolled back,

looking-for the genius your mother said you were

waiting for a lightbulb to be born

somehow spring into existence

out of all that dark, and all that cold,

and all that history deep down in your gut like a safe,

 

but this isn't charming, not charming

but more like the alleyway on Main Street-

where an old man sips dreams out of a paper bag,

doesnt bat an eye when bag runs dry

just keeps sipping-sipping,

god is on his way,

and he'll get here just you wait and see,

 

this room,

red walls covered in memory-and a WRONG WAY sign,

just got home-from a long day at work-my brain is killin' me,

and I'm still sitting here right where I left myself,

eyes rolled back like I was in some sort of trance

eye whites dance trance and by chance that lightbulb went off,

didn't expect it so I wasn't ready-or willing,

got caught pants around my ankles spitting against the wind just to pass the time,

in my silly little room,

in this silly little house,

in this silly little town,

two Waffle Houses-two McDonalds

and two-no four-no six-no a thousand houses just like mine,

a thousand rooms with red walls too,

and a thousand WRONG WAY signs,

all rolled back in a thousand blank minds

waiting for the next lightbulb-

because this time,

it's going to be different.

Reviews

[Zachary_James]

Very good

[Freedom]

if stephen king went poetry, this would be him.
You manage to paint such a vivid picture in the mind of your audience. It's crazy because you write to your specified intended audience..but we cant figure out who it is. It could be one person, it could be everyone, it could be no one.

beautiful, again. your harsh reality creates a light of transcendentalism, and that is very enticing. I love it.

[Reika]

This reminds me of how harsh reality can sometimes be.
I really like the imagery in this poem, and the lines:

"where an old man sips dreams out of a paper bag,
doesnt bat an eye when bag runs dry
just keeps sipping-sipping,
god is on his way,
and he'll get here just you wait and see,"

Great job. Wonderful write.
And it was fun to read out loud .=)