THE GROOVIEST LIT IN TOWN: VOLUME SEVENTEEN

Jul 25, 201512 min read

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Published: Jul 25, 2015

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THE GROOVIEST LIT IN TOWN: VOLUME SEVENTEEN

groov·y
['ɡro͞ovē]
adjective,informal
1.enjoyable and excellent.

GROOVIN' LIT...

convos"I worry about our conversations."
"Meeeooww." Tiny Little SpidersNot so tiny Spider learning her place.
Not so tiny Spider, look at her face!
Not so tiny Spider, send forth your smaller ones.
Not so tiny Spider, while you relax and have some fun.
Tiny little spiders crawling up his arm,
Tiny little spiders, so many of you, like from a farm.
Tiny little spiders all over his neck.
You're invisible, so what the heck.
Tiny little spiders in and out his ear,
Tiny little spiders, have no fear.
Tiny little spiders, take his brain,
But from killing him please do refrain!
Tiny little spiders, what have you done?
Tiny little spiders, this was no fun.
Tiny little spiders, now she's dead.
Tiny little spiders, and it's all on my head.
Tiny little Spiders did nothing wrong.
Tiny little Spiders just sang her song.
One great big huge Spider made this mess.
One great big huge Spider still in her nest.
Please do not worry, dearest one.
Please do not worry, darling sun.
Please do not worry, sweetest prince.
This mess I myself shall fix.
Incy Wincy Spider climbed up th Ginger Ale And LemonadeLemonade is sour yet sweet,
It varies day by day,
Ginger Ale is bubbly and tart,
Never going flat,
Mixing Ginger Ale and Lemonade...
Leads to a sensual taste,
Perfect in every way,
Took a while to figure it out,
I'm Lemonade,
You're Ginger Ale,
We're a helluva combination,
But an amazing one at that
:thumb547497399: The Female SuicideTwenty years of nursing
emergency room wounds
and my grandmother
puts down her fork, rubs
her brow and tells me
the female suicide
is a more methodical,
calculating beast.
A woman will close
the curtains, cleanse
their apartment of clutter
for the first time in months
and proceed to overdose
in the comfort of their
own hospitality.
A woman will do this
because she is aware
someone will have to
discover her like this.
Someone will have to
bury her like this.
My grandmother says this
because when my uncle speaks
paramedic about the male
he pronounced dead from
a house’s television antenna
he never mentions a burial. Inside OutInside Out
April 24, 2013
I don't exactly wear my heart
on my sleeve, but I do, however,
wear my skin inside out
all the sinews exposed
like the gnarled roots
of a great bramble
On Trans*With split personas
Come awakened demons.
Or so you told me
As you took my life.
One must be older,
You say,
To know oneself
Within society’s standard.
This one she,
Rains kisses and
Showers, coy though tied,
Always dressed her best.
While brother he
Gives no fucks
About simple love.
His pants bear holes
To represent the quadruplets.
Ze and they hide cautiously
Behind sister she and brother he.
Tricky, witchy, though shy.
One cannot simply separate
The polygonal siblings
Of personal expression.
The fluidity calmly
Oversees the oceans
And the course of
Human nature in its
Most righteous form.
The waves foam and break,
And the sand rough will not
Shake the fear and discomfort
When they are not she. Bitlets 378When it rains, it pours, but
I've already poured myself
another drink. psuedo i would fuck you for the beauty of two
bodies falling in love with hearts screaming
/obscenities/
scene-scapes scrape nails across my skin like it's
a chalkboard and you're the artist but
i've seen you draw stick figures and i am so much more
you would fuck me for the sake of insanity and
among unsanitary wardrobes of forgotten costumes
you kiss me like a memory i never needed
the musty smell of regret brings back uneven stubble rasping
against my barricaded emotions of something between
disgust and desire
(we're both fucked because you have someone and i have ghosts
and we're so dysfunctional we're not even friends.)
red decisionsbeing fifteen is
a lot like being stuck
at a red with no one
at the intersection
except for you.
you know that if you
apply enough pressure
to the pedal underfoot,
you will propel
across the intersection
and carry onwards
uninhibited,
but all your life,
(the brief flicker it has been)
they have told you
red means stop,
green means go, and you
need to wait your turn
like everyone else,
it is the way things work,
and you shouldn’t ask why.
still,
you fear that,
when the light finally
switches over to green,
it will be too late
to do all of the things
you were waiting for
in the first place. :thumb533364423:

THE GROOVIEST LIT CONTINUES...

back-bones

thysilverdoe

longing for the countrysidei miss the countryside
where there are no sirens to
cut across the lazy
landscape and neighbors are
sometimes scarce to find,
and i can walk into the wood
without trespassing
because my uncle won't mind me
kissing the wisdom of rivers
or dancing with the trees. lost magnoliasyour fuchsia skirt
danced
in the wind like a lost
magnolia of may,
and when you smiled at me
i felt nothing but
regret
for many mays i have lost
magnolias.
mother's daughterthe children's laughter annoys me
i think surely i was not that
much of a cretin,
but then i think back to my mother
always hushing me when i was a
child;
i was always so excitable,
still am -
guess she couldn't relate to that experience
as if she couldn't remember being a child,
but even with this empathy
and realization
the annoyance still remains;
perhaps, i am more
my mother's daughter than i care
to admit. wounded hearteat your vegetables,
kid, they'll
help you grow they said;
well, eat your words
i say
they may erode the bitterness
growing like cancer
in the open
wound that is your heart.

QUOTE OF THE MONTH:

“Five exclamation marks, the sure sign of an insane mind.”
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

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