freewrite

Freewrite

7/24/07

 

Writing Righting Wrighting Riting Writin Ritin Pitin Fighting Lightning Whitening Crest in your chest heavy breasts are the best but not with a paper bag on top if you don’t you’ll go down round the crown lick the town all around till you don’t know where to go on the floor kick the door breaking in till you’re making making making it, screaming, aching, moaning, sweating,biting, ripping, streaking tear the whole house off its hinges pound it down into the ground pounds melt off like butterscotch better not stop never stop pop rock top drop its magical mysterious somethings delirious by yourself its not as great favorite future pastime maybe rape drop it in her drink while she’s gone two white pills fizzle and fill till they dissolve and when she’s back propose a toast and laugh under your tongue, it is done one of us is getting some tonight but don’t do it, play it right don’t do her wrong, each of us came from a woman, if you do you’ll fry maybe not in life but in your mind pray to God and try to find another way to get through the day your heart’s on fire and you can’t put it out but if you don’t know one will and you’ll face his wrath as he comes down the mountain when he comes comes comes. Love your neighbor as yourself like they do with someone else in another time in another place as long as not another race we can forgive him maybe if he dies, says mother mary as she carves the turkey behind a smile would you like some more? Yes pleeeeeeeease pile the gravy on juicy tart make your mark when youre young cuz the rest is just a test on the first six years, don’t get caught in the rain or the pain sometimes you’ve just got to let it slide, swallowed pride tastes better than your own cut lip, after all. If you just wait it out and listen to the nice lady in your head you don’t be dead at least not in that way, try to breathe, forget the past it’s the last judgment you’ll face. Take it from your jiminy cricket I’ve been watching for a long time and you’ll be alright, stop trying to make a rhyme or a reason out of the season of hate, sun boiling veins, hateful glares aren’t what you think, nobody really cares, for the last time it’s all in your head.