2/1/2016 1 Comment 4 poems by Nick RomeoBattery The alarm detonates In my skull Spurring sunlight To punch my face I crawl out Into the bathroom Into the kitchen Slithering into the clothes I laid out the night before Near the coffee maker I calibrated To erupt simultaneously Within this disaster area Supercharged jet fuel With color & consistency Of the La Brea Tar Pits An attempt to reverse the Benadryl Melatonin Warm milk Mixed with ZzzQuil Compensating for bed sheets of Poisoned Ivy Pillow stuffed with broken glass Dreams of gremlins gnawing my face I down my breakfast: Cardboard-flavored power shake I pack up my lunch: Overripe cold cuts on stale bread With a moldy apple I’m ready to go I’m already late To the windowless dungeon So I can be put in stocks And flogged for nine hours Keys, wallet, cell phone, Along with yesterday’s mail And several poems I’m reworking Thrown into my backpack Thrown onto my back Thrown into the car Along with myself I turn the key I try again Battery is dead Nanotech Rug Cutting Mister McAfee spent endless hours in his lab, studying nanotechnology, and training interns. He always felt stuck inside an infinite time loop entanglement. One day he took a cab, holding one suitcase, wearing goggles and lab coat. He traveled a strait line to the goth club, “The Crusty Tomb.” The girls with the corsets and fishnets loved his costume. The music pulsed DYM and Diverje. The crowd bounced around like photoelectric particle waves as he was their nucleus. “Don’t worry – I’m a scientist!” he said at a high frequency. The power surged. Silence, Darkness. He now lives under a new name, Professor Paradox. He is their DJ, and manager. You're Boring, Your Friends are Annoying, and it's Cold Outside No, I’m not going to your Super Bowl party. Cradle friends of mine said “we’re going to play some baseball” I believed them I didn’t notice the shovels I can’t see, can’t move my skin burns, bones throb phone, shoes, wallet are gone vital liquids drench my clothes I try to slow my pulse saving the air in my lungs I writhe, bend, shake dirt spills into the gaps formed worms burrow in my nose drinking fluids for survival they slide across my face preparing their home I feel vibrations - a pounding they jump up and down I open my mouth to scream more earth seals the space I hear their laughter my friends stand above having their fun while I'm here still here About the Author: Nick Romeo is a multidisciplinary artist, musician and writer. His writings have been published in “The Brentwood Anthology, by Pittsburgh Poetry Exchange,” Uppagus, Rune, StreetCake Magazine, Eye Contact, Syzygy, and others. He was interviewed for Pankhearst's Fresh Featured poet of December 2015. Nick lives in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania with his wife and cat, Megatron. www.pittsburghartistregistry.org/accounts/view/nickromeo
1 Comment
|
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
April 2024
Categories |