Newthing | Teen Ink

Newthing

August 25, 2014
By Clary_Fray DIAMOND, Castro Valley, California
Clary_Fray DIAMOND, Castro Valley, California
50 articles 13 photos 35 comments

Favorite Quote:
foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of the mind<br /> -rwe


Oh

if a book and

a CD

combined a Ziploc bag

were to come 

and just hop the bucket

then what would come of the broken band,

fallen apart from use (or lack of use?)

when the world falls 

to be sure, it will fall slowly

it will fall slowly, to be sure

a book told me I loved a boy

but the pages made shapes and wrinkles that told me

otherwise

and I longed for the truth

at just a push of a button a stand became real

the life became worth living,

worth a penny worth a dime worth a million dollars

a doll of a penny a doll of a nickel a doll of a million bajillion trillion gazillion

when you stood a booklet kept from standing

too eager

might I say

that the cords drooped

like dead tree limbs not yet dried

still vulnerable like the brain and its many sections

its many ways

the twisting, curving paths

like a labyrinth that holds me down

because I'm always holding it down down down down down

I fixed a strap to my wrist it was small

I fixed my hair up on my head nice and tall

the metronome kept my beat, uneven

it kept my beat uneven

until I was so drowned the words were all wrong

and the thing was blurred all wrong

and I was wrong, all along

even though that sticker had 

a word

a phrase

and some strange squiggles of thought

I thought it would be good it would be fine

I knew they only wrinkled so far

and the flavours came in many

types of types of types of types of types

a broken record but it still makes the call

and the head it still sprays them all

and the phone it works through walls and walls and walls,

the cards are colored

and the meat's like stained glass

the pepper that penetrates the designs

red like blood fuschia like love pink like loss have I gone too far I always do...

but were a word and a phrase 

from my elder poem

slice of cake

brothers to this newborn

newskin

newlife

newthing

but not all that new

the bag held its jaw wide open wide open

reach into me reach into me

s

se

see 

see me

se me

s me

 me

me

m

e

 

that's me.

 

 

 


The author's comments:

If you liked Newthing, you should go and read its brother, Slice of Cake.

Just click "More by this author" at the bottom of this page and find it.


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