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You Think that I’m a Goth

Writer: AdminAdmin

and not because I’m

pulled

by the colour black.


Actually, all the pigments

combined will equal black.

So it’s really just

considering

every hue  that breathing

gives us. And rainbows

aren’t it. Their unicorns

never real. A lie

to every child.

 

Give me the

darkest stallion

you can find. Riderless.

Its neigh

more like a demon’s

gravelly throat,

 

one that’s forged in

flames; that when everything

is burned

it turns to noir.

 

My wildest dreams

occur

there in the dark. In a nightly

occultation.

 

And before you brood

I’m sketching ouroboros

 

think again. I’ve no

Bauhaus

on my playlist.

I never had a crush

on Wednesday Addams.

 

It’s just my tortured

poems, my scrawling

on the two-face

of existence,

 

that living has a

funny way of doling

out its payoffs:

 

the juggling of

the acorns

in the woods—

the one that’s dropped

the winner, will one day

soar three-hundred

fucking feet

into the sky ;

then chopped into

a puzzle for IKEA ;

 

the emaciated, gasping

boy

in South Sudan,

the in-and-out of

flies in caving nostrils;

 

and then the half-a-

billion charge 

towards the egg ,

only one to wear the

laurel, thinking that it's

won the prize of life,

 

the untold thrill of

defeat

that’s still to come,

the agony

 

of my supposed

victory.

 

 

 

Andreas Gripp

March 13, 2025


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