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Stench (standard:poetry, 214 words) | |||
Author: Spinal Remains | Added: Aug 13 2002 | Views/Reads: 2857/2 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A Tri-State hell on Earth. | |||
Winding roads meet up With the foul stench in the air. This is New York...New Jersey... A Tri-State hell on Earth. Rats munch on what's left of A pigeon that could no longer Stand to associate with humans, And inside those maroon guts I can see a little of myself, My own loathing For a species I am forced To call my own. Walking down St. Mark's Place I do a little soft shoe To dodge the brainless punks With orange mohawks And green liberty spikes, As they mosh with strangers To the Aus Rotten in their heads; I have to wonder What "liberty" those spikes stand for If they can't even free their minds From a song they don't Even own the CD for. The light flickers in the window Of Trash and Vaudville As I stare wondering What the two have to do With each other. Across the street a girl Has Religious Sex with A new skirt she could never Possibly fit in to; But who am I to judge Her skany, fat a$$? I walk away from this Silent festival of freaks And geeks trying to be cool, Or just frighten their parents, Past Ricky's and the Fun House, Wondering how metal That dry cleaner's used to be. Copyright 2002 Tweet
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Spinal Remains has 1 active stories on this site. Profile for Spinal Remains, incl. all stories Email: jelloshots@eastcoastpunk.com |