Home   Home

Tomorrow

by Johnny Crimson

Steel was open
all traps set to linger longer

Fill me partly with the notion that the 50's
are still alive

and fill me halfly (not partly) with guns in my throat

vigor as fuck you'd eat a sonnet
I bet youre cunt is laid out in stanzas

I'm sick of steel
and the concrete slabs beneath me

The way some fucker always hits the wrong switches
and asks for my "shop" keys

I know were dying for a martyr

but do we have to sell t-shirts first
Cant this subtle little terrorism
just explode in one big way

Smiling at the young girl strangely

as she rides her new bike through the neighborhood
Thinking in my head of how her skin tastes Think I should tell her before
I push this switch

and the Ice Cream truck explodes

11/10/2007

Posted on 11/11/2007
Copyright © 2025 Johnny Crimson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Coleman Demiurge on 11/12/07 at 04:47 AM

This poem frightens me... It's that bloody good. Those last few lines are a macabre masterwork. Well done!

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2025 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)