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Miss This Is A Hick TownThey knew when you came that you weren’t from around these parts by your accent. How quickly you found you weren’t one of them, with your voice’s thick sound Miss This Is A Hick Town. They recognised how you made your way like a dancer through town with a bag but no bike, couldn’t call whether you were a dame or a dyke Miss This Is A Hick Town.Miss This Is A Hick Town
Still they’re not eye-to-eye with your wearing of frocks, when it’s raining, your donning of stockings – not socks, your unthinking drinking of gin on the rocks, &nb
by ~malicedomestic
FamilyWe forget, at times, how much lies in between wherever I am and where you’re standing. Mother, small talk shrinks faster when you're there alone and doesn't stay up in poor company, either.Family
You're taking steps. Now if you can you’ll keep on doing. How you’re pushing further to be frank about it and keep down thoughts that lead to talking being harder.
Somewhere though it's ticking about within the gearbox of your head, an itch. A flicker staring at me, while you say your work's done. Say we're lucky to have been together,
say you couldn
by ~malicedomestic
The Plan‘The purpose of the genealogies is generally taken to be more propagandistic than historical.’The Plan
So we tell them how we built it from scratch: the floorboards and hallways by doorlock and latch to make up their world. The house that we build will be their whole system of earnings and tax
right down to a tee. Our records will not be questionable. They will take it as read
we are telling the truth in our records and rules, will ask why what happened happened that way; what triggered the wars and how the kings died; how much their councils kept and spent: &n
by ~malicedomestic
VictimsNow notice the woman who runs each time, the man staying, the man in the cell and the manVictims
who can’t decide between thinking and it –
notice his screaming for a reared red bitch,
and in their heavy sleep the two who hid in corners together back when, dying to make a scene like love. See how they turned like worms from each other the twisted moment the theatre rose.
And now see the man that turns on the street, the alley’s man on the coming bus returning for his monthly queen: see the scuffmarks on his second hand feet, the wave of the n
by ~malicedomestic
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deviantID
| Just another post-adolescent stargazer with a predisposition against prosaicness... |
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Roadie!
- deviantWEAR sizing preference: It's how you use it.
- Print preference: Quite partial to a bit of Mono...
- Interests: Poetry, music, linguistics, poetry, travel, socialising, poetry...
- Favourite movie: Oh, don't make me pick a single one.
- Favourite band or musician: Changes constantly. Playing Liberty Horses at the moment - 1986, hmmm...
- Favourite genre of music: Oh I like everything.
- Favourite artist: Frank Miller, and anyone nicely graphic.
- Favourite poet or writer: Can't say it's one. I have a few.
- Favourite photographer: Matthew Stockwell
- Favourite style of art: The deviant kind, darling - what else?!
- Operating System: Mac OS X.
- MP3 player of choice: Sony Walkman
- Shell of choice: The emotional kind
- Wallpaper of choice: Whatever bling thing I've recently photoshopped myself.
- Skin of choice: My own... I like it a lot these days.
- Favourite game: Seeing how long I can talk about members of the public without them noticing.
- Favourite gaming platform: Not really any, although i do miss my Sims a lot.
- Favourite cartoon character: Lisa Simpson.
- Personal Quote: 'Wha?'
- Tools of the Trade: Microsoft Word
- Website: http://www.facebook.com/alexgabriel
- Email: alexgabriel23@yahoo.co.uk
- MSN: malicedomestic@hotmail.co.uk
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The Sodom and Gomorrah Show is a once in a lifetime production.
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The Sodom and Gomorrah Show is a once in a lifetime production.
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you dogs
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The Sodom and Gomorrah Show is a once in a lifetime production.
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Never again. I needed to turf out the blighter, the beater or biter who'd come like lamb to the slaughter to Salome's bed.
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