To whom it may concern
If you are writing this, you are a murderer.
If you are reading this, I’m sorry.
So I was interviewed by Artscope about my writing process, my performance of poetry and I was asked to read a few pieces.
Author’s Note: This piece was written in response to a photo, which can be found here
If you would like to see more of the photographer’s work (and I would highly recommend him), you can do so here
Five witches gave birth to the elements
Earth air fire and water
Dressed to represent their children
But the fifth witch bore a child unknown to this planet
Naming her progeny Void
That which comes before birth and after death
All released from her child will come to be
All her descendant takes back will cease
Praised as the giver of life
As she controls all before it is
Neither witch nor man can depart her company
Without returning someday
None can name any who opposed her
For how can someone be named
When they suddenly never were
Dropping a lure was the perfect lonliness cure
I caught a Pikachu
You’re as pretty and rare as Mew
And I hoped I could be your Mew too
I must have had a lucky egg in my inventory
Because this could be the perfect love story
So we share locations for poké stops and gyms
And you ask is there a her as I ask is there a him
We smile and decide to hatch these ten kilometer eggs with company
So we’re walking and talking when suddenly
You see a gym and dive into action with a Butterfree
And I say that gym is already taken by me
“It says on your phone that it’s ruled by Valor but you must have missed it”
Then you broke my heart when you said you were Team Mystic
I can’t believe we Pokédated
Mystic is overrated
Valor is this gyn’s ruler
Articuno may be cold but Moltres is cooler
You can try and take that gym but I won’t let it be
Our love has fainted
And so will your Butterfree
Treat your music like your drink
It’s all about the volume
Treat yourself to the burning in the back of your throat
From the perfect tune
The barman is making screaming eargasms
Making your heart beat and your legs stupid
Bacchus is on the dance floor
Shifting the face off Cupid
So get your earphones
Let the shot go to your head
The music says worry about tomorrow
When you’re dying in bed
To choose your drink
Pick your song
We are young
And the night is long
I pulled out my phone while the man beside me was breathing down my neck. I started to dial and sidestepped away from him. He took a step closer.
“Mind backing up a little” I asked. “Thanks”. I called my brother. “Tyler, I just had a thought”.
“Dude, I’m suited up for an interview so this better be important” said Tyler. I imagined the sight, his short stature and his formal attire. It looked like a child holding a clipboard.
“It is” I replied. “So what if an acapella group-”?
Tyler stopped me. “If this is one of your puns, I swear, I’m changing the Netflix password”.
“It’s not, it’s not” I assured. “So if an acapella group got into gardening…”?
“This is a pun Bruce, admit it” replied Tyler.
“I’m telling you, it’s not” I defended. “So if an acapella group got into gardening, would they call their band Pitches and Hoes”?
Tyler groaned on the phone “I’m going to give that a negative four out of ten”.
I got a dissatisfied look from the man beside me. “No but seriously, I called to tell you about my emergency cigarettes”.
Tyler expected another pun saying “Ok…”.
“There’s a box under my bed and it has about three in there. If you’re going for an interview, take them. Just buy a packet of mints as well. Pop a mint after your cigarette”.
Tyler was shook by the lack of a punchline. “Ok, thanks”.
“And Tyler, you’ll be fine. No matter what happens, you’ll be fine. I love you”.
“Ok man, I got to go, but thanks for the cigarettes, and the advice”.
“Anytime Tyler” and I hung up. I turned to the man behind me. “Thanks for bending the rules. I’m ready to go now”.
Technically, the glass from the windscreen broke my heart. But Tyler looking at the car crash, that is what broke my heart. He roared like a missile, aware of its purpose as it fell through the sky. Being ok was an impossible thing. And he would go on believing this for the rest of his life. But when he checked the time of our last call, he understood impossible things can happen.
I picked it up and listened to what was said
It spoke of how it wasn’t pretty yet
Wanting my shade of red
Now my pants are black and my jacket is green
Whatever could the diamond mean
I woke in a groggy state
Crimson nightmares hurled me into the waking land
Where the diamond had turned pink
And lay sleeping in my hand
The clock mocked
As the energy needed for simple tasks shocked
But it does not matter
How awfully slow the days go by
For I have my talking diamond
Always by my side
I now have a pale complexion
And shadows under my eyes
Upon closer inspection
Yet the cause of all this
There is no detection
Until my talking diamond spoke
One last time
About the shade of red
It could never find
It said rubies get all the fame
So to match is to mimic
And to mimic is to be the same
Within my veins coursed its shade of red
It knows I am too weak
To get out of bed
The diamond will be pretty
The ruby has been fed