Buzzcut Silence

[tectak]

we're going on a rampage
(cue the music; this straitjacket
is going down!)
listen: i'm not a god but
(but i can't forget you)

we're running away from
sleep-induced tranquility:
heads collapsed, hearts
squishy with resignation
(it's like a drug, m'am)

there are tall new yorky cities
and clear-eyed stars painted on
the inside of my skull, oily.

brain's been dry-cleaned,
ironed burning hot:
nothing left except buzzcut silence,
pervasive music.
(boom,
boom,
deconstruction.)

pressure is a privilege, they say, drily

[[is this even worth salvaging?-- disclaimer: written at three in the morning-- 80% asleep. also, i can't think of a good title. how do you people come up with one anyways?]]

I often write when it's super late. I would say if you're going to edit, do not take Tec's advice and re write it awake. Wait until you're half dead again, maybe completely drunk or something (I don't know) and take a crack at editing. I think rewriting when you're in a totally different place when you originally wrote it wont work, or at least it doesn't work for me.

As for the title, it's not working too well right now, and if you do try to edit this one that's what I would go after. However I think the poem needs no editing. It's frenetic, destructive, and cool. I like it quite a bit as is. I think there's definitely value in letting an ephemeral poem be just that. Not every poem needs to be endlessly combed over, have all the nits picked out. That's just my two cents.
-Em

Note. Don't crit the crit. Crit the poem.Mod.