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About Literature / Student successwithhonorMale/Unknown Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
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good weather for fishing
He thinks it is good weather for fishing.
The second woman
with old hair and powder made from crushed seashells
sips swamp water from the mouth of the man with a flat Crow nose
                 and he culls her hair with hands, not his alone,
                 turning her neck into a cornstalk leaning,
                 whispering "Bia, Bia".
He tells the other one, in stockings rolled to her ankles,
that the Whip-poor-will was out last night halving babies
from moonstones, into the dirt they come from.
                 And yes, he saw the fox swallowing
                 up the road with scatterpaws,
                 a fishing rod tucked behind his terracotta fur.
A tick to tell time by; that water must be teaming.
The second woman hangs her body in the air
long enough to say "I never trust a man whose mama
didn't teach him the piano."  
And what kind of fool, with the pockmark face,
lopes in a room beneath the kitchen floor
building trains no man can sit in,
building engines to run on
:iconwhokilledkirov:WhoKilledKirov 62 60
ted koppel topples the night line
the horizon is a tele-prompter
stuffed to burst with sandbags, drenched
in mascara and torrential rains
and hillfolk dancing in a landslide,
playing bluegrass fiddle
thick earth gripping at their sides
and middles.
i can’t slip the fog
creeping into vision
like a dark spot on black background;
i read the news in old states
of oracle,
fussing at the spaces lines escape
the pre-fit, blueprint formations
of thought.
nothing can change the way
we can, and yet our heels dig
into mud,
as mountains tumble down
around our shoulders.
and we laugh a hearty laugh,
pause for effect
and listen to tomorrow coming
like a new wave.
:iconnawkaman:nawkaman 10 28
shes in plasma
I, the ghost,
hold tangible things
like sun rays slipping
through windows
and dustfires burning up
in thin, wisped fingers
and connecting joints
but you, elusive
you, ambient
dissolve instead.
I know you like futures,
like I know anything
at all.
:iconnawkaman:nawkaman 12 10
me and God in a fast car
Once— wen I was something Beautiful—
I was swallowed whole
  My peach pit body spat from heaven
  onto the concrete.
No sugar, just
Slick pussy juice and
A wrinkled stone that got up
And started walking—
Tumbled among strange men.
I roil an shudder at the thought of u.
I have been broken hearted for months
Like some magazine
Like my mother
I have seen Penuel
And wrestled with God
      Raked my fingers—
      down her diamond breasts—
      me and God are alike:
      we both love 2 be worshipped
      we both have to kill
      something Beautiful—
Me and God in a fast car
With a girl and a gun
I had once wished to receive my father’s battered inheritance
Had once wished to kill myself
And be blessed for it
Now I am a cocaine angel
Which is to say, I am alone
Which is to say, I need to get close
To something Beautiful—
Sad oyster in the sh
:iconscheherazades:scheherazades 8 3
Chaque pilule est un rayon de lumière,
si j'en accumule assez,
je peux danser sous le soleil.
:iconmrs-durden:Mrs-Durden 9 11


Add a Comment:
Nullibicity Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
I hope you don't mind if I float through sporadically. I think your words have so much to say. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and efforts
(1 Reply)
oviedomedina Featured By Owner Jul 18, 2018
Thank you so much for the favorite and the critique! Very much appreciated!
(1 Reply)
BrendaCarriere Featured By Owner May 9, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the fave!
similar-singularity Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2018
holy f'n FUCK HOW ARE YOU REAL????
a lifetime later i log in and your writing???
has left me floored????

i'm not surprised because it's you,
but i want to eat you. i miss you like fuck.

all these years later you're still my favourite writer
now, even more so. :heart:
(1 Reply)
SilverStarApple Featured By Owner Feb 14, 2018  Professional Writer
Thanks for the favorite!
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