Retrospective of writing - winter 2017
"A Girl Is a Gun Is a Girl"
I once knew a woman.
We worked at a gun range together.
Less than a year later,
I saw her baby girl for the first time
Which really gave me hope
of a 300 day gradient between
complete hardness and softness.
"Easter Is Coming"
My mother nailed me to the east coast
for looking like my dad,
hoping to cleanse my karmic sins
in catholic school.
So now, I always remember that
everyone is nailed to something,
like a vice or addiction,
but I don't even let myself crave nicotine.
I'm lucky in some ways,
like hitting the same spot on the highway at
9:20am independent of how late I leave my house.
But most things aren't luck,
but the direct result of resurrecting yourself
early every morning, despite knowing that
you will suffer for others' sins.
"Prick"
Try not to stereotype,
Not all glass cuts.
Remember when you collected sea glass
on the beach every summer?
The sharp edges ground smooth with time.
You'd be a fool to pick it before it's done.
"Shapes as Tarot"
Past:
Life was like a circle. The house that you almost bought when moving into the neighborhood is for sale again. You started an old job at a different location only for everyone to treat you like you're 15 again because seven years later, you have the same bright blue eyes and shy demeanor. The track runner that keeps running laps. You're out of breath now. Time to step off.
Present:
Life is like a line. Any interstate makes the blood rush through your veins. You're moving through time and space and seasons, but you can't skip any. Looking at maps is comforting because the other coast is only a couple days drive. But you're forced to detour hardcore - even though you just want to go straight to the good parts.
Future:
Life is like a dot. You're here and now. This is what existence has come down to. And you're not any less significant than any other dot. You are stable, complacent in the best way. Connotations are not part of the life that you subscribe to. You're unbound to convention, a free agent.
"Dirty Mirrors Club"
Not directly standing, but I still see my reflection in you.
You took me to Atlantic City when I was young,
now we have the same taste in sandwiches and trying our luck,
60's music and existential nihilism.
I was finally on a map, Lacan-ian direction so clear.
Some days, all I think about is our house
that caught fire in elementary school
and all the mirrors covered in soot,
rendered useless for their function and form.
I once knew a woman.
We worked at a gun range together.
Less than a year later,
I saw her baby girl for the first time
Which really gave me hope
of a 300 day gradient between
complete hardness and softness.
"Easter Is Coming"
My mother nailed me to the east coast
for looking like my dad,
hoping to cleanse my karmic sins
in catholic school.
So now, I always remember that
everyone is nailed to something,
like a vice or addiction,
but I don't even let myself crave nicotine.
I'm lucky in some ways,
like hitting the same spot on the highway at
9:20am independent of how late I leave my house.
But most things aren't luck,
but the direct result of resurrecting yourself
early every morning, despite knowing that
you will suffer for others' sins.
"Prick"
Try not to stereotype,
Not all glass cuts.
Remember when you collected sea glass
on the beach every summer?
The sharp edges ground smooth with time.
You'd be a fool to pick it before it's done.
"Shapes as Tarot"
Past:
Life was like a circle. The house that you almost bought when moving into the neighborhood is for sale again. You started an old job at a different location only for everyone to treat you like you're 15 again because seven years later, you have the same bright blue eyes and shy demeanor. The track runner that keeps running laps. You're out of breath now. Time to step off.
Present:
Life is like a line. Any interstate makes the blood rush through your veins. You're moving through time and space and seasons, but you can't skip any. Looking at maps is comforting because the other coast is only a couple days drive. But you're forced to detour hardcore - even though you just want to go straight to the good parts.
Future:
Life is like a dot. You're here and now. This is what existence has come down to. And you're not any less significant than any other dot. You are stable, complacent in the best way. Connotations are not part of the life that you subscribe to. You're unbound to convention, a free agent.
"Dirty Mirrors Club"
Not directly standing, but I still see my reflection in you.
You took me to Atlantic City when I was young,
now we have the same taste in sandwiches and trying our luck,
60's music and existential nihilism.
I was finally on a map, Lacan-ian direction so clear.
Some days, all I think about is our house
that caught fire in elementary school
and all the mirrors covered in soot,
rendered useless for their function and form.
posted by mapppping at
8:54 AM
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