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Party time

Mama told me not to come, moon light  shone upon the porch Boone's farm booze long lost Luce her shorts . Southern cries of fifties morals, mama told me not to come, screaming loudly through the haze in her mind, to her feet  down to the creek, wash away the cum of that damn preacher's son.

 

Listening too and watching from the rock as all the whores round Bonneville grab their clothes and get out of there. Mama told me not to come, beating on the rock with fists, mama told me not to come.

 

 

Author notes

x rated words do not ask me where my mind was at. my first try so feel free.

oh this is fiction about the 1950s in the South.

A contest entry

Touch me back

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Comments

1 - 12 of 12
  • dillpickle62
    September 17

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    OMG! Before i read totally. Boone's Farm, country quencher! My fav as a reckless youth.
    Hahaha... that's some try out.
    I get it.


  • Floorboards
    April 26

    Edit | Reply
    Crikey, what amazing imagery! the farm the creek the cum hehe, great little poem and the ending image is fantastic too.

    Great work, really well done.

    Floorboards.


  • sinkfloridasink
    April 17

    Edit | Reply
    damn that musta been alot of Boones Farm they were drinking...haha this was gooooood though, i enjoyed it and very excellant prose


  • cricketjeff gold member
    February 27

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    You certainly have something here! I enjoyed this a lot, I think, and I only think, that I would call this poetical prose rather than long line poetry but it is delicious read aloud. Thank-you very much for showing me something different, it is lovely.

    Great stuff

    Jeff


  • Fritz O skennick gold member
    February 23

    Edit | Reply

    Cool, great stuff!!!

    Almost like a moment caught in time...
    Enthralled throughout in its compelling narrative & fiesty old world southern morality...
    Keep up the good work...
    Well done!!!


  • just rob gold member
    February 23

    Edit | Reply
    While some may criticise the structure of this, or the approach to the prompt, I, for one, was enthralled.

    When I read the lovely long lines of the masters, I want to hear it read aloud, in a "master thespian" sort of way. This reads so. Although I have a man's voice, raspy and low, I still had to read it aloud a few time to feel the theatrics of it. I like the time frame. Although very contemporary in the context of long metric lines, it has the echo of history, or more accurately, the moans. Finally, the later musical reverence wrapped it up nicely for me.

    I really enjoyed the reading of this, and while it was not, as you say, autobiographical, it reads as an honest and genuine piece.


  • parenchma
    February 15
    Edit | Reply
    Yoda, "Do not try. Do. Or Do not!"

1 - 12 of 12