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Ghetto Stylee Poetry

"Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that...Yes, yes, its the most comical thing in the world." Samuel Becket

Poems

GhettoStylee Productions 1998 copyright. All rights reserved. Written permission must be secured from the publisher to use or reproduce any part of this webpage and/or the material contained on it except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles.
Dead Girl by S. Fox
 copyright 1998
 Why does god hate me so much?
 Why do I want to die?
 my hand
 (tremble)
 holds a blade, angry
thick black cold sharp
 my enemy is me
 at my forehead
 I bring blade down
 splitting face into halves
 Down chest
 and belly
 to the lips between icy thighs
 covered in blood
 LAUGHING
 blood feels good
 covered in blood
 thick like syrup and red hot
 it pours from face and into eyes
 veil of red tears
 and runs
 down arms
 erratic red river,
 Perfect rubies fall from frozen fingertips
 and explode when they meet the ground about my feet.
 i laugh, head thrown back
 I'm red girl...
 Dead Girl...
 and dead girls don't feel pain
 dead girl
 I lay down
 next to putrfying corpses
 black,
 green,
 oozing
 squirming and dripping stench
 lidless eyes hide nothing
 amongst staring corpses
 I listen to maggots' chatter
 in silent cold cadavers
 My siblings
 in death.
My friend, My lover
by S. Fox
 copyright 1998
 My friend's heart
 not beating
 mangled flesh
 putrid and rotting in an empty street
 Crushed beneath my boot.
 My feet are black and swollen
 from running after you...
 one foot
 at each side of you bloody face
 You will thank me
 when I kick you
Boy
 when I give the pain that feeds you
 the Pain
 that burns your soul...
 I say we live in hell
 You say you want to die,
 we stand together in our darkness
 among dark faces
 Lost in dark places
 My brother in the night
 We fuck,
 you and I,
 sometime in the morning
 after drinking and drugs
 and sometimes our rage and tears
 before we fall asleep...
 fucking amidst waves
 and rising sun
 we never say a word
 As you cry out
your breath brushes my shoulder,
 as I scream into your chest
 I smell your flesh
 beside me,
 sister of your soul
 I hear your blood
 pounding in your chest.
 I have the gift of loving you
 of loving such a fool
 Do you hate me when I take your hand...
 and pull you from the ledge?
 Do you love me when I kiss your mouth,
 and assure you that we're dead?
 Get your heart up out the street Boy,
 we're done with feeding dogs
 use your teeth and tounge to scrape it out the road
 Lock it in your closet
 you must
 I kick you one more time
 do yourself a favor Boy
 Beat it when it whines

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