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Array ( [sid] => 175990 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => It's Like a Shantytown with Thousand Dollar Shades Here [time] => 2013-05-08 10:19:27 [hometext] => [bodytext] => In the evening
the breeze is lukewarm
like a cup of clouded over milk tea
left sitting for too long
in a hustle bustle bristly little coffeeshop
that ignores your fidgety, solitary presence,
an impotent brew
not even strong enough to lift your limp mane of hair.
Shuffle your feet
chuck your sweaty change
in a bag full of entagled stray ends,
frayed and fused together
just like that table of ribald old men,
dazedly united
in a post afternoon drunken stupor.
Oh they've got camaraderie
Oh they've got humour
that won't be smothered
by the funeral parlour
but rather,
the comfortable fool who forgets to pay for the next round
Get up and walk on by them now
they don't have a train to catch
as the street lamps
langurously yawn open
displaying their neon tinted mouths
unlike the warm glow emitted from childhood memories
it's more like orange hued tic tac dispensers,
tossed from the windows of countless flouroscent lighted apartments
stacked upon each other
like 14 inch television sets
from a department store many shades of lamp light ago.
The phone is ringing
but no one is answering
the pesky telemarketers
with grating accents
televised dramas and scripted smiles
are much better
Go ahead and pick your grotty nose
in front of your smiling screen
no one's watching.
A smile that quantifies your charm,
all gawks and giggles,
is worth about as much
as a rotten tooth that's been painfully pried from your mouth anyway.
[comments] => 0 [counter] => 183 [topic] => 43 [informant] => CARAAAAA [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
It's Like a Shantytown with Thousand Dollar Shades Here

Contributed by CARAAAAA on Wednesday, 8th May 2013 @ 10:19:27 AM in AEST
Topic: oops



In the evening
the breeze is lukewarm
like a cup of clouded over milk tea
left sitting for too long
in a hustle bustle bristly little coffeeshop
that ignores your fidgety, solitary presence,
an impotent brew
not even strong enough to lift your limp mane of hair.
Shuffle your feet
chuck your sweaty change
in a bag full of entagled stray ends,
frayed and fused together
just like that table of ribald old men,
dazedly united
in a post afternoon drunken stupor.
Oh they've got camaraderie
Oh they've got humour
that won't be smothered
by the funeral parlour
but rather,
the comfortable fool who forgets to pay for the next round
Get up and walk on by them now
they don't have a train to catch
as the street lamps
langurously yawn open
displaying their neon tinted mouths
unlike the warm glow emitted from childhood memories
it's more like orange hued tic tac dispensers,
tossed from the windows of countless flouroscent lighted apartments
stacked upon each other
like 14 inch television sets
from a department store many shades of lamp light ago.
The phone is ringing
but no one is answering
the pesky telemarketers
with grating accents
televised dramas and scripted smiles
are much better
Go ahead and pick your grotty nose
in front of your smiling screen
no one's watching.
A smile that quantifies your charm,
all gawks and giggles,
is worth about as much
as a rotten tooth that's been painfully pried from your mouth anyway.




Copyright © CARAAAAA ... [ 2013-05-08 10:19:27]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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