Is this writing decent or not?

Question

please explain why or why not.


15 June 1799


We dance around the fire strumming wildly our mandolins.
We pray those who have offended
Greatly burn
In Hell for all time
While we float
Up to heaven
On the palms of God.
Look, fire!
The candle burning
On the skin of the new bride
Who snacks from sacks of fish eyes
And walking backward she falls
Down the stairs to the cluttered basement.
David is so feckless.
He runs out of the house,
Stammering,
“Uh, my God, leave me alone!”
“Where are you?”
“What can I tell you?”
This mathematical equation
Forms in the clouds,
Riding in a great southern wind.
This equation is trigonometric,
He hasn’t the means to understand it

Today I woke up at 8 o clock. In the A.M. I was tired. The bed seemed to hold me down. I was being pulled down by some cosmic pressure. As I awoke, nonsense was being poured into the space around me. I was rambling. Some jibberish I was writing the night before. My mind felt the need to expound on this in my sleep. I dreamt of beautiful red heads with copper skin, and death (I fear what nocturnal intensities of moral crusades and midnight bank robberies happen upon me tonight). The spastic, and furiously consistent alarm clock had not woken me. A mental schedule had. Some say this is a sign that you are getting older.

Somehow my feet pulled the rest of me off the bed, and I was hurled, zombie-like, out into the shower and the rest of the giant, indignant world and my society. I looked at myself in the mirror for a second. But I have no vanity in me so I looked away again, and I hopped the little divider bar, where in the next 50 years, someone will die as a result of it’s slimness and slickness. The shower was hot and pleasant. I scrambled out the door, half asleep. My destination was exactly 3.89 miles away. Corflex, Inc., my place of employment.

I leapt into the back of the building, to avoid some smokers, even though I smoke. I was exactly one minute late. I doled out a good morning for the Chinese stitchers, who just sit there sewing all the live long day. I also handed one out to an autistic man who calls me his uncle. This man is about 35 years older than me. The thing is: his defect was intensified when he wrecked his car and almost died at twenty. I am among but a hand full of people of whom he has any human understanding. This makes me feel special in his distant and impenetrable world,

I then saw my boss. I was supposed to visit him at his house up in Pittsfield (47 minute drive, approx. 55 miles departing Manchester). With no money and no phone and no internet I wasn’t able to tell him that I didn’t like the idea of going all that distance, with a lapsed inspection sticker, almost no gas and five dollars. I thought of State troopers, lumbering out of their cars, volleying tough questions at me, and me cracking. I thought momentarily of some tragic thing happening to me on an interstate in the Great North Woods. It just happened recently here. A young man, about twenty four, shot and killed a state trooper who had put some pepper spray in his face, somewhat questionably, then turned his back on the 24 year old. The 24 year old then drew his pistol, firing six shots at the trooper.

The trooper was struck in the head several times. They released the video to the news media, somewhat questionably. The television screen then showed the 24 year old run the trooper over with his car, several times. The 24 year old was then suddenly struck in the head with a few bullets from a local man’s gun. The man was shady, and had a violent past, and that portion of the days events hadn’t been caught on videotape. Nevertheless, the man walked away unscathed, and is not facing any criminal charges. As far as the public is concerned, any Joe Sixpack should be able to blow a cop-killers brains out. It would just be foolish to keep him alive and maybe find out what in God's name went wrong so it could be prevented from happening ever again, right?

Answer 1

chaotic, haunted and raw. these words may well, divide and flow, twist and turn, but they breath with deep emotion. seeing through others eyes, is not always clear and defined.. i really found this to a beautiful piece. thanks for sharing.

Answer 2

You can write.

Again, this is all over the place. How did we get from the Federlists to I-80?

I love free-form writing. You have a talent for it. Just take shorter leaps so us slow pokes can keep up.

TD

Answer 3

The poem is dramatic and pretty and employs Imagery quite well.
The Additional Comment is too long with too many errors, and sorry to say, too confused!

Answer 4

Da poem was pretty well composed, but yes additional details was tooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo long.

All da best 4 ur next poems.