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drowntown

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Everything posted by drowntown

  1. another city poem

    this backcountry, all pastures and fields and razor-backed hills where the clouds look like they could scrape the treetops or the backs of the winding cows lewiston, idaho, middle of fucking nowhere sister to clarkson, built on riverbanks and stolen land your town hall proudly displays histories lived by white colonialists and their snaking paths your town hall proudly displays the natives that died for them perhaps unrelatedly, every wireframe sign stabbed into the earth advertises gun rights and conservative campaigners i say to hell with it and i aint coming back
  2. Overheard Quotes

    "awful bold of you to assume i believe in things like iNeRtiA and gRAviTy"
  3. this too will pass

    you have grown out of misery loves company and into this too will pass. maybe this growth mindset, the kind that looks for sweetgrass in the lawn and daisies among the thistles, is what sets you apart. and trying to reacclimate into a group of misery loves company sort of close friends acquaintances after a calendar year is like eating a durian: messy, thankless, and better off left alone. it aint their fault, you suppose, heavily considering the cut and run option. you dont know them anymore. youre too happy for them. in this one year, you have learned six notable things: staring contests arent about who blinks first, theyre about whether or not youre aware enough of the big picture to see your opponent's friend stealing your TV in the background friends dont send friends dick pics scars heal over twice as strong communication is half of what keeps love going not everyone is an asshole but most cis men are this too will pass now is a great time for you to drop off their radar for three days, just to see what will happen. it's not like you have a choice, being out of town and all, but youll pretend you did, and they wont wonder. they didnt wonder for eleven months and seventeen days, but who's counting? not you, of course. not you. youve been displaced but that displacement left you kicking hard in the ocean undertow, learning how to swim with lead fins and salt eyes, and your acquaintances in the kiddie pool watched mayflies lay eggs in the filter and the algae discolor the concrete or stagnate by the wall. they floated easy on their backs and unlearned how to grow, or to dive, or to stand up (and thats a kind of stagnation too). you had begun to love the afterthought, the lost time, the idea of someone, the nostalgia for something half-remembered. and that too will pass.
  4. oh yeah bitch ill eat all the hail i fucking want to

    1. conradbirdie

      conradbirdie

      no hail here but there WILL be 1 frosty frosty foot of snow soon. and That's Good Eatin'

  5. tea 🍵🍵🍵

    hey, li'l dude. dont you call me little while you here wearing my shoes from two years ago. it dont matter cos youre still my baby brother. and youre still shorter, my older.... si- sibling. ill never goddamn forgive my mother for making my cis, straight brother see why she doesnt deserve me he come up crying daisies tells me mom said you aint gods plan and that he cant call me who i am or he gonna get beat he finds solace in critical thinking when i say mom dont know shit and thats rich coming from a woman tellin us to be tolerant and openminded in the context she defending confederate flags he's stopped crying. i say you think god made everyone perfect? he answers yeah and i tell him then god made me perfect and trans and aint that just the goddamn tea
  6. paper lanterns

    keep me keeled and lain out on the ground there, like firewood or a robin and i wish a little bit to feel again blood runnin' through my fingers like rice through a sieve dream somethin' like the lilypads holding the pond down, full and flush and ill dream of you pulling my heart out through my jugular i can be a part-time obsession content to peel back t-shirts and put on the fight, parking lots and flourescent brawls breakin' in my new shoes predators learn not to make noise thumb the blood off that new white shirt and leave me soaked in the alley like so many paper lanterns with their lights gone out
  7. common name (latin name), family

    and maybe things will be okay. you're settled in the passenger seat of your classmate's tiny blue smartcar, sun flashing across the ice in your starbucks (her treat), just relishing the sixty-something afternoon weather. coming back to her car three hours later, down from the mountain, and it'd been almost too hot. the windows stayed rolled down until the interstate. spring's a little shy this year, but she'll come around. your chest feels free, and you think that maybe this is love of circumstance, the kind where you fall for the hue of the sky and how the sun hangs in it, or the green of the trees (Thuja plicata) and the way the wind smells. your starbucks is a little bitter, but that's okay, because no moment is perfect. it's easier to fall in love with almost. today is one of the days you count blessings: two years clean. one year in love. six months living. some of these things are more tangible than others, and while your classmate tells stories about her crazy ex-coworkers, you find yourself hoping you get laugh lines like hers. she's a woman who knows what company she likes to keep, and you feel a little honored that you're her company for the quarter. her smile is a switchblade, a slice of white, and her laugh is an inviting thing. do no harm but take no shit. the hike was something of a three-hour whirlwind, of Rubus spectibilis and Oxalis oregana and glycorrizaceae. an attendee collects the sap-laden cottonwood buds from downed branches for the salicylic acid found therein. cow parsnip advertises death. the class is enamored with redwood sorrel, clover-shaped leaves made something tart by the oxalic acid (like the crystals on sour patch kids). these things learned make you excited, even, for next time. it's an experience you can refer to jokingly as brandy and weeds, the post-hike high likely just as good. Brandy's smartcar shifts gears and you thank her (again) for the starbucks. internally, you thank your brain for the serotonin. you find yourself grinning long after she's dropped you off, because maybe things will be okay.
  8. call it something cutesy

    i do not appreciate threats of bodily harm my dear, my god damn life a thing you swore up and down never to joke about my god you would get us in trouble for saying shut up to each other so when you hollered it we'd know you were serious this shift to today was sudden and even if you call it something cutesy (murderize), there's something fucked up about a mother threatening to kill her children
  9. theres something unsettling about hearing my 9 year old sister hesitantly ask 'or youll kill me?' dead serious and eyes like dinner plates to my mom after she tells her to mop the floor

    1. queenie_flower

      queenie_flower

      unsettling is not the word that I would use, Logan.

  10. Exquisite Corpse: April 2018

    a knoll o'er which the splendid moonlight spills
  11. flowerbound

    i open my red, red mouth & from it sprouts a garden of poppies and golden pears, a thing made to beg: stay, stay, stay. pull me safe through the winter, palms laid out across the fragile frostburned petals running tearlike into my eyes and sticking. my vocal cords thrum. & the winter persists, & you stay chilly, & once i wake up to you kissing me, careful as you pour poppyseeds into my voice box, pretending this opium won't flood my veins with sweet tar, pretending you never knew this need to be needed. i spit you out, & sugared pears follow. i vomit false summer, & winter ends. i dice you into soil & my garden flourishes. im wine-drunk & boundless, worshiping anything i can taste.
  12. this is really good surrealist imagery...it stood out to me specifically also yeah i second what queenie said-- ive been there, and if the collarbone thing is intentional....please take care of yourself. my trick to that is that i'd be sad if all the good bacteria friends in my stomach died so i feed them like id feed a pet :0 it helps
  13. Exquisite Corpse March 2018

    my lungs find new ways to peel themselves back for the openmouthed sun
  14. welcome to astrology....take a fuckin sip, babes
     
    aquarius. murderfish, wweh, friendzoned terrible little bitch

    Pisces. adorable little fish. glub glub!

    capricorn. stoner. hOnK

    scorpio. spiderbitch. 8 eyes. THEMS THE BREAKS.

    sagittarius. sweaty horse man. fists. how lewd

    libra. justice. blind. licks things

    virgo. the mom friend. carries a chainsaw, always.

    leo. an actual cat. tears apart prey ;33

    cancer. loud shout crab. wears black. fucknugget

    gemini. horrible horrible computer nerd. origin of 'hoe don't do it'. pii22

    tavros. bigass bull. Peter pan kin. is half the man he once was
     
    Aries. dead things!!!!! ribbit.
  15. ode to seattle

    seattle, concrete-bound pier, your slipknotted sidewalks/city blocks traverse the port. when i was young i never dared set foot into your dense skeleton, all asphalt and stainless steel and sometimes, in the barrios, slumping wood. but one day, after finding myself, after clutching blue bus pass like a shield: you became a vast, unfamiliar home where would I be without your droves of anonymous faces like grapes cascading from a vine and your sky? oh, your sky? framed, always, by the rooftops, enough that ill never see your moon but from those very same rooftops? i had no idea you were so endless. you remind me to be finite. you sleep on the sea like a wayward soap bubble stranded on the surface. it is as if you have come from man's feeble attempts at creating beauty. you are not colorful, a sunken ship, or an edge waiting to slip, neither understood nor incomprehensible. you are as sharp as a canine’s point. you arrive bearing due west, towards the ocean's blue underbelly while your space needle salutes the moon. I have marveled at your gardens, be them of sound, glass, metal, or plants. chihuly begs us to take up landscaping. you’re seattle, the gay city, the starfish in the sand. you are a marvel. just as our flag, you are as vibrant as the midnight sun. you are not warm by any measure, all overcast rainy days, but you are definitely made true by your severity. how fluid you are, and along the highway the boardwalks rock with the winter waves. oh, seattle, you are the worst traffic and the endless night life. without you i would have never heard of the food truck that sells the best bubble tea and chicken wings. with you i find new ways to fall in love. this is why, seattle, you are the embrace i can slip into and lose myself in, why you refuse to let time run the same, why you shock hearts like a defibrillator on the roofs of the strobing nightclubs. i have praised many things, but for me you are more a fever dream than a dance floor of forgotten time. to my eyes, you are an ocean drowning in itself. ((i used the same form as ode to the visible universe but with less improv. heres the template i used from my poetry class: ode template.pdf
  16. may as well stick this painting in here as well 😩🙌🙌💯😍🍆

    5ab637cb42451_selfportraitog.thumb.png.dbcd8e3df032939bb102908bd5d46752.png

    1. thepensword

      thepensword

      I wanted to give you a like but I can’t condone those emojis

  17. Dreams

    this is the largest fucking soup of the day that i have ever read
  18. BADA BING BADA FUCKING BOOM
    AYYY IM PAINTIN' HERE

    contrast exercise colliers.png

  19. My City

    I LOVE FIREFLY AND I LOVE THIS POEM (hey jess have u watched serenity. here is joke. how do u clean up after a battle w the reavers? wash the harpoon) I SHOULD WRITE A CITY POEM
  20. image.png.d36bbe44ee3fcf377dcbb99f09292a6b.png

    @conradbirdie thank u for coming to my hell tedtalk

    1. conradbirdie

      conradbirdie

      it was a hell time thanks bro

  21. @rat-kid hey saoirse come back :(((( ill buy u candy from the daiso across from stone gardens

  22. Dreams

    i made out with clark on a bed in a guest room in the back of a mcdonalds after waiting in line for food at said mcdonalds
  23. roadside flora

    give me thunder or give me sugar or give me the black charred roses trod under the blood moon where i intend to make this hate a harvest we aint here to save ourselves & a mouth begat a swing, & a swing begat the fall, & the fall begat the splatter, & the splatter begat the swish and spit, & the swish and spit begat caffeine headaches pushing sharp behind my teeth like so many daisies & that's a kind of mourning too my fists hang heavy like summer peaches just over the fence a thing that ain't beautiful but deserved by those who get too close wasn't it enough? how i find you, thirst for something vermilion, fingers closing around soft arteries & pulling, always pulling pick a fight like an opium poppy & get hooked on the sting
  24. roadside flora

    im the least musically talented person you will ever meet
  25. the two genders,

    image.png.eba7e9a79516bdf57cec1836e205a957.png

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