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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: complacent town talkdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: orderly conduct
    Elite Ratio:    2.44 - 51/80/36
    Words: 480
    Class/Type: Prose/Misc
    Total Views: 641
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2440



    Description:
        Nice skinny boys. Nice shitty towns.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotscomplacent town talkdots
    -------------------------------------------


    In the morning of April you would lay low and crawl into the vulnerable corner you call your room and phone up all the people you ever knew, wishing them a good day and asking them if they were sexual enough to admit their wild and erotic fantasies involving not so pretty people. After trying out for that failed audition you would lean down and puff out the smoke from your mouth and compare yourself to the chimney on the house on 4th street. Much later, when the smoke has cleared up and the fog has cleared up and your eyes have cleared up from crying about being an unsuccessful actor, you make your way down the docks smelling like salty water and dirty dreams.

    What seemed like forever was only 3 minutes, which you spent waiting for the cured boys on the other line to pick up. When Samuel had finally spoken into the other end, you ended up somehow asking him to tell the others that youíll be gone for a while. To live the free life and hit it off with the strays in another city, smoking it up in bus stands to see who could get the darkest lungs first. Much later, after teary goodbyes and confessions you set off in the broken up foggy streets that took up the shit town you used to wander around with yourself. It is 2 am. You are tired; you donít want to hit it off in another city anymore, so you end up leaning against the brick wall of the school pretending to be high so no-one can blame you for your actions.

    Strutting towards the windows of the school after gathering up energy and matches, you peer through the glass and see the silhouette of the detention kids smothering each other with love and sweat inside the math classroom. After tapping the window numerous times they look up and grin wickedly, gesturing you to come in. You wave well naturedly and turn away to walk slowly down towards the main road, ignoring your hormones and lack of touch. Accompanied by the smallest of noises and the scraping of your shoes you keep walking until you reach the bridge you once sat on having brief moments of ambitious possibilities and heart wrenching thoughts on beautiful people.

    76 days left till the beginning of your new life, till that time you sit on the clean bridge, scrubbing your fingers, scrubbing your toes, and telling yourself that your getting better at feeling good and requiring less.






    Submitted on 2006-04-07 00:29:00     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Hi I'm new here and so I'm sorry if I'm bad at this. I think that it is easily accessible to anyone who eventually felt trapped by where they grew up, hopeless even, which almost everyone has probably felt that way. Your images are very stark and yet very clear. You get the emotions and perceptions of the "you" character across very clearly. I grew up in a small town and wanted to live my life somewhere else. While I never seriously considred running away, it seemed like a good idea to just leave sometimes. I'm not sure what to do with the "76 days left" at the end. While, this hasn't been a strictly realistic piece until then, it has seemed more realistic than letting the "you" languish around a bridge for 76 days. The piece as a whole does feel original.
    | Posted on 2006-04-08 00:00:00 | by slvrfairewngs | [ Reply to This ]
      if you could get your as.s. up and leave, you wouldn't have anyway. the detention kids are laughing at you for your hidden sexuality. you've never smoked pot, except that time you pretended to roll a joint with that receipt from the donut shop you get fat from. your cigarrettes are shameful and stolen, and you live in a well to do neighborhood trying to break out of the white suburban kid mold you should have appreciated.
    you can leave suicide notes, but this isn't going to get any better.
    this is nice.
    | Posted on 2006-04-14 00:00:00 | by denial | [ Reply to This ]


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