Loving Your Lovecraftian Liplock Lockdown
One...
the note that plays in a different key
the feeling of submergence inside of me
the violence of the expression that is
the was and the were and the you and the her
the girl, the boy, the needle, the sting
Two...
Experiencing the inability to pull the stops out of this machinery and to tame the destructive forces within me - vis-à-vis poetry -
if you can't write you can't breathe
can't breathe you can't scream
can't scream you can't think
can't think cos you can't write
you can keep the light of day
my words would rather see the moon at night
I rhyme - it's a compulsion
I rhyme - it's a compulsion
I rhyme - it's an expulsion
Three...
The countdown in reverse
No need to rehearse
Gears grinding in my curse
Stretched on the hood of my hearse
Wearing this stanza down to the earth, the ground
to the raw nerve, to where it lives, where it shits
Stripping it down to the naked steel and shoving it,
Grinding it together until everything fits
The Revolution! The Revelation!
the apocrypha and the incubula of the fire god in my veins
the fingers dragging through blood to expose the ink stains
Four...
It all comes back to one
the note that plays in a different key
the feeling of submergence inside of me
the violence of the expression that is
the was and the were and the you and the her
the girl, the boy, the needle, the sting
the war, the child, the birth, the ring
the killing joke is that we're dying to live
(the secret to immortality is that no one will appreciate your genius until you are in fact already dead)
and the record is skipping on the gift you tried to give
and it's skipping, skipping, skipping ahead
to
Five...
You have to want to die before you know you have to live.
Forget You Ever Saw Me,
experimentation is the perview of those who have everything yet to learn