Saturnal

I want you to tell me something.
Does your dirty carpet match those shimmering drapes?
I just can’t sense an ounce of truth dripping
from those lips you keep wiping clean each time we do this.
Sorry, but I don’t accept shifty grins and sweat as payment.
I need something more real so I can buy some sleep
and dream you into a nightmare that you can’t escape;
where junk drivers and punks fill the streets
ready to shred you like a paper doll and forge a better you
whose religion isn’t drafted from a perfume.
I still smell that shit too...everyday.

__________________
him from the city,
so him gotta be witty

ms. vodka

ouch... summertime is ushering in bad smells to the forum...

this is certainly interesting saturnal... and a different voice for you?

i think you could run it through the ol' edit machine... make it less wordy for more impact...

one wonders when they read it what might have led the writer to write it???

vodka

Cumb Dunt

you should nail that to her door.

__________________
The pear tree across the road opposite was now in full and frosty bloom, the twigs and branches springing not outward from the limbs but standing motionless and perpendicular above the horizontal boughs like the separate and upstreaming hair of a drowned woman sleeping upon the uttermost floor of the windless and tideless sea.

— William Faulkner, from Spotted Horses

Saturnal

ms. v - Yeah, now that I read it, it is too wordy. I might fix it up a bit and add to it. And to answer your question, I would say that sense memory led me to write this. Good or bad, it's something I'm able to do pretty well. Sometimes it helps and sometimes it hurts.

cumb dunt - haha what an idea. I'd do that if I still cared maybe. Nice avatar by the way.

__________________
him from the city,
so him gotta be witty

ms. vodka

i read somewhere that scent is the stronges sense linked to memory...

like my mother, for instance, used to wear chanel #5 and only that... i have the last bottle of it that she owned, and i can still pull it out and smell it and... remember...

vodka

Cumb Dunt

that was an axe commercial.

__________________
The pear tree across the road opposite was now in full and frosty bloom, the twigs and branches springing not outward from the limbs but standing motionless and perpendicular above the horizontal boughs like the separate and upstreaming hair of a drowned woman sleeping upon the uttermost floor of the windless and tideless sea.

— William Faulkner, from Spotted Horses

Burnz

Saturnal-

If you don't have the trust, nothing else matters. Good write.

__________________
"It's none of their business that you have to learn how to write. Let them think you were born that way."
-Ernest Hemingway

www.scorpology.com
www.clevelandchatters.com My Hangout

Saturnal

So true, Burnz. Thanks for reading.

__________________
him from the city,
so him gotta be witty