Position:Home>Poetry> Tell me how you really feel.?

All hail the Crash bang of the calculator!
Sum totaling our net worth-
figuring out if we can eat tonight,
tomorrow, the next day!.
Figuring out if we’ll celebrate your birthday,
Christmas, get married,
afford children, repair shitty cars
and shitty apartments,
or operate on subtle malignancies!.
We rise from tired old mattresses,
rinse beneath rusty showerheads,
put on dirty clothes
and drive still asleep to punch in
punch out
and give it all back to the unappeased mother,
the absent deadbeat drunkard of a father!.
The cruel and crushing machinery in the blue suit
behind the podium on election day-
all the while the boots go crushing,
stamping out our hipster drifter doppelganger flame!.
Pin us down beneath the weight of expectations,
the weight of obligation,
the illusion of responsibility!.
Our life light dimmed by the proffer of a door,
its darkness inking the town
like a sudden thumbprint!.


It's= it is
Its= possessive pronoun
which did you mean to use in the penultimate line!? your disregard for proper punctuation renders the potentially great, merely good!.
I've said it before- you write incredible first drafts!.

stream-of-consciousness as a writing style is not my favorite!. it's coffeehouse poetry, which is better performed than read!. beer helps!.
i like your writing alot!. you have an adventurous mind!.
nonetheless, what's the cliche- good writers write, great writers rewrite!? somethin' like datWww@QuestionHome@Com

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So the hookline roped me in, but where this poem really takes off for me is about midway through "and give it all back to the unappeased mother" the imagery of suffocation comes through very strong and the emotion here is tangible!.

keep working this, it's very good!Www@QuestionHome@Com

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I feel with my fingers!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

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