9 votes

Lakeside Property

Tags: poetry, poem

Not sure why I always feel the need to preface these with something.

Feels weird not to. As if I'm just "Hey chump, here's a poem, read it."

Y'all hear that Lil Nas X track "Old Town Road" yet? Never knew I needed to hear Billy Ray Cyrus on a trap beat until it happened.

If that blends your smoothie, you might also like "Like A Farmer" x Lil Tracy ft. Lil Uzi Vert

I like this whole hickhop wave coming through. Cool to see people playing around with genre-bending.

For all those "that's not real country" folk, here's some Cody Jinks and some Brown Bird (technically blues I think, fight me.)

Anyway, here's the thing. Feel free to read it. If anyone here uses one of those e-reader speech things for the vision-impaired, how does this sound? Does the reader have any rhythm to it, or does it just feed you line after line?

Alright closing out for real. Later.

I thought something strange

skeleton felt out the closet

In the house, the paint

kept peeling off the walls

and on the bed, decay

as the wood went rotten

Never could build a house,

made a life making coffins.

.

In the morn, I wake

and the skies are grey and cloudy

Turn to kiss my babe,

is it love me or get off me

and my head, it aches

the anxiety is starting

so I say fuck it all and I make me some coffee.

.

Lips on me -

desire.

Arsonist

with a lighter.

Feed my soul,

make the heart burn.

Where there's smoke

there is fire.

.

An infant strand-

ed out there in the snow

Sh'said "Babe there's a chill,

you'd better close the door."

Close your rain-

bow, there's no pot of gold.

And there's no one to sing

you any songs of your home.

.

Fill my art-

eries with bourbon old

Loverboy

til I am dead and gone

Rip off my skin

and leave my body cold

My son,

the devil

is a pretty blonde.

.

And I said

Mama

I’m tired.

My hands shake

My eyes burn.

Hair’s thin

Heart afire.

My lovely little lover was a liar.

.

Closed the door,

the hinge broke.

No chimney

house filled smoke.

Scents arose

of burnt mold.

A lake of blood and

guilt can't support a home.