Screaming the poetry of Emily Dickinson
Out the window of a freak's accelerating pile
Of ozone-blasting machine,
I flailed my arms to passers-by,
Fingers clenching and unclenching at them,
My insane attempt to literally
GRAB THEIR ATTENTION
So I could tell them what happens
When you don't stop for a psychotic fucker,
But you don't call your psychotic-fucking driver
Obscene and unflattering names when he's gunning the motor
At batshit insane speeds,
Also those time-tested expletives are undignified,
Said the asshole,
Because they don't stand well against the eternal and the inevitable,
And naturally he exceeds the batshit insane to some other terrain far beyond the land of what I'd call
WE'RE FUCKED,
And I ask what's the fuckin' hurry,
And he laughed because consummating with fate
Was always a real rush for him,
And wouldn't you know it his pedal foot just got heavier,
And I resumed my blood-curdling Dickinson recitations
To the open, frantic wind that must've been blowing the fuck out of our way.
The children --
Who stopped playing and bullying each other
As we rocketed toward their playground --
I'm sure the children caught
Shouted syllables here and there,
They dumbly watching,
Our engine rumbling and wheels screeching,
MY MOUTH FORMING THE TOURETTE'S-LIKE OUTBURSTS OF CLASSIC POETRY,
I think the little girl who lost her grip
On the monkey bars
Heard me scream the word "CHILL!"
At her
As the smoke belched and billowed out the driver's vicarious ass, and we plowed
Through some poor sucker's crops,
And, between the horrible head-on glare and the bowing blades of grain,
We couldn't see shit,
Not that anything like that would faze the lunatic navigator.
It sure as hell didn't affect my inexplicable memory for high-school literature.
SO I'M GONNA JUMP OUT THIS WINDOW TO HELL WITH HOW FAST WE'RE GOING, I interrupted myself,
And I braced myself for the dirt as I made ready to leap the fu-
All roads lead to Rome,
Smugly said that cryptic son of a bitch,
So I lost my nerve and I wasn't gonna do it anyway maybe,
But I guess neither of us cared,
So I plopped back in my seat just in time to see the crops clear away,
And a giant-ass mansion loomed just ahead,
And damn did that dilapidated monster grow larger and larger,
And that silver stallion hood-ornament had its rusted head pointed toward the brick frame --
JESUS STOP THAT'S SOMEBODY'S HOUSE
And that FUCKER OF A DRIVER laughed and sped on
And I knew he sure as shit WASN'T GONNA STOP,
So I lunged for the steering wheel and
I HAD THE WHEEL SO I JUST HAD TIME,
But my hands just clutched,
And my arms were tensed firmly in place,
And I had just enough time to ponder just HOW THE FUCK LONG I'D BEEN SITTING
IN THE FUCKING DRIVER'S SEAT,
And just enough time to finish what I'd started,
And lastly and most loudly bellowed, "ETERNITY!"
Author notes
I wrote it on a late-night whim as an alternative to Emily Dickinson's "Because I could not stop for Death."
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
-
lovely dark wicked story.........
adored the twist........
and I had just enough time to ponder just
HOW THE FUCK LONG I"D been SITTING in the drivers seat.
with a few touches here and there...this has HUGE...
and wicked
possibilities.....loved your story...Emily Dickinson would
smile and toast you for it!
ears/Seattle
-
-
I appreciate your praise and your hints that there are places it could be more polished.
I'm already considering your suggested re-wording and slight alteration of emphasis for the twist.
While I have no guarantees as to how I might further edit this, I'm curious to know which places you think need to be touched up. Of course, that's only if you feel that you would want to take the extra time.
Either way, thank you very much!
-
-
"batshit insane speeds", Ha! I love that.
Reading this was like taking a road trip with Hunter S. Thompson while he's tripping on something, trying to read the complete works of Dickinson, driving at the above said speed, and interpetinging it aloud to his passengers who are dreaming wide awake on the widsheild of the car.
Freaky wrtie to read.
-cheers
-
YOu ARE a God, if There ever Was oNe
this poem gave me chills. Dickenson is one of my favorite poets of all time so it was really cool to read a twist off if you will of her works. you had me not so safely strapped in the back seat on this one. great imagery and word choice. the ending was all that it was built up to be and more. FANTASTIC. i am still staring at the screen making sure that i did not just hallucenate that amazing write!! AWESOME. Thank you so so so much for sharing.
-
AMAZING!
Oh God, YES! As soon as you screamed, "ETERNITY!" I knew it was that one! It happens to be the only one of hers that I have even a little bit memorized. That. was a bloody amazing poem, Max. The cursing was a really effective device for this poem, and it made such an interesting contrast with the fact that the same speaker was also reciting Emily Dickinson. Great tone, great use of language. You always manage to find the most effective and entertaining ways of conveying what [I think] you need to in your poetry.
Adding your comment:
1 - 5 of 5
