Our New Biggest Concern (The Thing)

*This idea came to me last night while I was at the theater, seeing the remake/prequel of The Thing. Please leave constructive criticism! Also, I'm not too sure about the "abstractness of nowhere" thing.*

Four Amalgam fillings on the
floor whispered, Forget about
the blood in the
shower,

Our new biggest concern is
the helicopter juggling the
sky. It
starts with cold and ends in fire,
linked like holidays.
It’s not a series, it’s a sequence
each individual but connected,
irrelevant yet necessary to
the order, exposition with irises of mica,
kindled over forgotten charcoal. You

move along, move on, onto the next
asylum vacation and styled
vexation. You can make something out of something,
but never nothing out of
something. We have promises and contracts
bound in carpet fibers and
grease. We exist.

We will always exist. You can make something out of
something, but never nothing out of something, so keep
kicking your violin until it sounds like a
trumpet. It won’t
disappear though.

Our new biggest concern
is the uprising in drumstick
popularity. Weapons, said the
airport security guard.
Idleness, said the Congressman. Kindling,
said the boy with the white
knuckles. He smiled a
sock’s grin and struck
a match.

The match the something, and the
fire then being the second
something, and know that
the entity nothing refuses
to exist, it lives in the
abstractness of nowhere
and the smoke follows it.

Our new biggest concern
is nonexistence. A man leans
back in his plastic lawn
chair, puffing on his cigar and
saying, I tried nonexistence
once, but it was boring, not enough
rock and roll. But, no, they’ve been
ignoring him, it’s time to move on
to the next item of

Our new biggest concern.
Some Thing can be made
out of some Thing. Our greasy
carpet contract: we realize it is
mutual.

We realize we’d rather not exist, not
here.

Our new biggest concern.
A pyromaniac turns off his
TV and glances outside.
The man with the
cigar mutters to
himself, If I just keep
scratching my name off
this damned gravestone, I
think I’ll be okay.

I like it. My only thing is maybe it needs more of an image in the beginning. Idk Mommy always got annoyed when we didn't have some sort of fixed point of reality and our poems were jsut floating. Not that yours is, but maybe give it a fishing line life line. Nothing too big, but just enough so we aren't ost in abstraction. Otherwise I like it, and I really like the concept you have here.

Kay, I added an image to the beginning, but now I'm not sure it fits in with the rest of the poem. Also, I'm kind of wondering if it's all cohesive. I feel like there's several different stories going on. Advice?

oh wow, I really loved this poem, especially

If I just keep
scratching my name off
this damned gravestone, I
think I’ll be okay.

now THAT is an image =D

but, my biggest concern for this poem (haha) is your line breaks. they're wonderfully experimental, but I think they might be able to flow better, especially for this line

sky. It

it's very sparse, and I believe it could use a little more substance

other than that, though, you're golden
I especially love the idea that

You can make something out of
something, but never nothing out of something

because it's absolutely true and I doubt many people ever thought about it that way