- Reads 1,895
- Votes 66
- Parts 13
- Time 6h 16m
Complete, First published Feb 03, 2023
Mature
NOT MINE ITS ZEESKEIT ON ao3 Tommy was handed a small flyer in printed in black and white, with the words "POETRY NIGHT - OPEN MIC" splayed across the front in bubbled font. He fumbled with his binder as he took it, eyes wide as he said, "are you sure? I mean, I love poetry and all, but I don't think-I'm not sure-what if I can't write poetry?" Mr. Sam's dark eyes softened, and he reached out to place a hand on Tommy's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Everyone has to start somewhere; every poet, from me to Rudy Francisco, started off without knowing a clue about what we were doing. Tommy, it's not about if you can or cannot write poetry, it's about if you want to." or: The performance poetry AU in which Tommy joins a slam team and finds a home in the arts. NOT MINE ITS MY ZEESKEIT ON ao3All Rights Reserved
Table of contents
- "Where beauty stands, and waits."Fri, Feb 3, 2023
- The nows of summer glitter in a ring These are cities where I had hoped to liveFri, Feb 3, 2023
- and my nights, and my doubts, and my friends/my beautiful, credible friends.Fri, Feb 3, 2023
- "I do the very thing I hate...I do not do/the good I want."Fri, Feb 3, 2023
- "my darling turns to poetry at night"Fri, Feb 3, 2023
- I gave shape to my fears. I varied my velocities, watched myself sleep.Fri, Feb 3, 2023
- I learned everything that opens is a mouth. Every mouth will spit you right out.Fri, Feb 3, 2023
- the only way to run through the neighborhood/was to run through it togetherFri, Feb 3, 2023
- This is an ancient practice: predicting the future/in another's prone bodyFri, Feb 3, 2023
- you hurt because there are things/you've never been taught to doFri, Feb 3, 2023
- "We are the sons of flint and pitch."Fri, Feb 3, 2023
- I don't remember what it was like when my lungs arrived under water.Fri, Feb 3, 2023
- The end <3Fri, Feb 3, 2023
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