I wrote this poem tonight as an exercise for my English 208 class. We were given the poem in its entirety minus all the nouns and verbs, we had to fill in the blanks. The class seemed impressed with mine, one girl said it was excellent, I must admit I had to hold back a tear as I read it aloud, even if it was just an exercise for some, for me this is my life. If its slightly incoherent, you know why, I had very little creative freedom with the structure, I could only put in the the nouns, and verbs (in one case we were allowed to use an adverb, hence the kill myself gradually line). Ill include parenthesis for the text that is truly mine. And by the way, the cup aint dead until I die, and even than, nothing ever dies, just transforms into something else.
(Death) in (Los Angeles)
(Apathy) (climbing) into you
from (Skid Row), or (Santa Monica),
or (CSUN)
It (appeals) to you, asking
for (money), (alcohol), (beauty),
(double barrel shotgun made of cotton candy)
your (hand), a (whore)
or a (saint), (innocent and devout), (blind and bound)
the (prisoner) you know.
That is, (death) knows you.
It always asks, (are you happy)?
(are you empty)? (are you ready)?
So I (see) through (Hell)
I (kill myself gradually like HIV inside of a fresh host)
(Flies) all around me
I live with (spiders)