by matt ronquillo
I used my gold plated hands to pour neon steel inside myself
Now I’m the ghost of a girl choked out on vomit
Hovering over my final resting porch, eternally
Bashing at the floorboards, blast beat shrieking
Sparking vengeance embers
Down-rip soil digging, making dirt and dust spiral overhead
I’m barking aggressively in repetitive shoves
To instigate an unstoppable motion of continuity
A dust devil’s wailing in a whip-wheeze current
And this broke-down town’s banging around my inner voice drain
I swallow its fucking cries down my throat with dust and my spade
0 thoughts on “Nothing's Changed”
i can’t even think of anything to say but that i love this poem. it’s a real good one. feels good when it’s read out loud.
Yeah, much better spoken aloud. Which, considering the final line, is kind of ironic.
I knew I was going to like this poem after reading the first line.
For some reason I think of Cormac McCarthy meets Transformers.