I have neglected to remember for quite some time that I
Have been hiding from all the people I used to call home.
The curves of my body have long since seperated and my
Hip bones have been warn out by true love.
Ottawa tastes filthy like cigarette butts to me now.
I question the motives of this politically inclined atmosphere,
Everyone is a liar.Everyone is out to get me.
I'm a liar.
I'm out to get me.
I'm..
Trailing off into the Ottawa river,
I remember finding a body floating by
The Quebec border. It was so still and beautiful.
Perma-frost touched her hair just right and
I nearly caught frostbite trying to save a corpse.
The city lost its shine to me that day.
She became my role model.
I lived with zombies for six months when I was sixteen,
They fed off ecstasy and each others tongues. Walking down
Rideau Street at three a.m melding in with the bodies of
Rave kids. I loved a rave kid once, until he loved me back.
Brutally.
This city holds nothing for me but parking lots
And masturbation.
Author notes
There Will Be A Continuum
From The Vault To Your Eye Sockets
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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.and I thought my stuff was good. i don't have much to say, i'll just reread and enjoy your outlook.
Terrible and bleak, you really were f*king yourself over in Ottawa, weren't you?
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This is... brilliant, an utterly unique display of thought and emotion, and it was simply fantastic!! A pleasure to read despite its melancholy content: wow.
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This is so wonderful..
I swear i commented all of these so far..but perhaps i am wrong.
Though, i'm making up for it now. Amazing. -
"They fed off ecstasy and each others tongues"
simply awesome!
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I have always loved a good wank in a car park, preferably without any fucking zombies in the area. Nice poem.
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i love this poem.
i would totally quote a certain section of it, but i loved the entire thing.
maybe it's the *alternative* vibe this poem has.
i'm going to look at your other works now.
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I liked this a lot, especially the final lines, "This city holds nothing for me but parking lots/And masturbation" - this is genius and I shall add you to my favourites. I have written two poems about Canada; http://www.allpoetry.com/poem/3143070 is about Quebec City and http://www.allpoetry.com/poem/3173182 is about Alberta. Would you like me to do one about Ottawa too and dedicate it to you?
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I would be honoured if you chose to write a poem about Ottawa and dedicate it to me. Thank you so much for reading my piece.
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I thought that this was really good.
Some very powerful and vivid images portrayed.
The reflection in this was heart wrenching.
True disillusion penned here.
Get out of Ottawa
Well done and thanks for sharing!
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It is the -dead- of night. And this is filling my mind.
It's the best time to read for me, and I'm taking it in. I just wanted to leave a better comment.
First verse. I love your blatancy, it's an honesty that's astringent to my eyes, it hurts; but cleans.
"filthy like cigarette butts" Definitely filthy. I've drank from bottles filled with them in places that feel the same way now too.
I really loved how you trailed off, I read it again and again, it's just... nice. Whether it's a reference to you drifting into your memories, or that you're possibly the corpse you talk about, I like it. It works.
You tried to save a corpse. I loved those lines. And I also think that's amazing. You're special.
The E and rave kids verse. Spectacular. You find such great ways of expressing those kind of things, and people. I couldn't.
I just love poems about you, basically ^^ -
We can relive those places, those people who shared out lives back then, yet oft wish we could leave and never come back. Liked the emotion in these lines and the sadness at the end...Title took me in as I am Canadian.
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This is what you mentioned! I'm excited. And this is entrancing.
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Strong piece.
I hear a sigh but there's so much energy behind it!
I guess our sense of place is determined by how we live in it.
I like this and I want to read more of your stuff.
Parking lots and masturbation.
Yeah, I've been there.
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