/lit/ - Literature

Have a bump, anon. I really like your poem, you should keep writing them when they come to you. I was hoping to write my own burger-stories sometime. A regular burger-thread would be nice.

>>16469690
>more spice on the dish, but no

Thanks anon. Drop your burger punk work here, this is the only genre from the early 21st century that will survive

>>16468860
Bump. I have a bunch of stuff to do, but afterwards I'll try to write a burgerpunk Petrarchian sonnet, so I want this thread alive.

>>16471341
Alright, I'm done with my daily duties, I hope you enjoy.

As I turn off, on Friday's grace forlorn
(Because I should not hope to turn again)
The exit safe, with traffic free of sin
I gaze for Mickey's gates to be reborn
But finding not the arches windswept-worn
Ascending through the pikes of glass and tin
Despair creeps forth, to Friday's suff'ring win
A loss of life crowns weekend-start with thorns
But lo! Another sign ahead doth sign!
A smiling lass of glutton's joy revealed
A redhead, platter-brought, to Friday save
And whether handheld burg or salad-tines
To sustenance in hand we swiftly wheel
For Wendy's will suffice 'til End of Days

>>16471952

Wendy's vs. McDonald's is the new Heaven vs. Hell for the postmodern existence. Both dichotomies are the only things that matter in life, and both are equally as unreasonable and impenetrable in their logic for choosing their respective dueling halves.

>>16468860
Could you please explain your rationale with your meter? I understand it's free verse, but there doesn't seem to be any meaning or intention behind where you placed your line breaks.

>>16473022

Just to be honest, I have no conception of poetic meter. All the poetry I do is in Greek, so I don't understand meter in languages that don't have quantity. Feel free to link me to a basic guide though.

The feeling of that poem is supposed to be tied into the third stanza. It's supposed to be rolling and rocking like boiling water, right when you put the salt in for the pasta, right before you add in the microwaved ragu sauce from Walmart.

Ten Piece

Might be a little out of the way
though, he says, as the windshield
wipers gently massage off one
quarter of the droplets. We can do it,

I said, just a boy in the back seat
trying to get a good combo meal.
I remember when I didn’t know
if I loved my brother or not, just

looked at him as my brother and
we existed on the same level of
terminal function in a society that
made happy young boys in the rain

on black streets slick with oil
but no salt on a Tuesday evening.


>another poem from today.

The sun arcs below the horizon
and rises up again - twilight comes,
but for a moment, and I watch
with weary eyes, thinking of those
men who, ages past, ate their fill
of fermented shark and testicles
of ram. What a time to be alive,
I think, and go back to my bucket,
an original blend of herb and spice
not available when feet first walked
upon this windswept rock. I thank
Odin and the gods - there is KFC
in Reykjavik.

The sizzle of meat
The flavor of fat and salt
Far from home, yet not

I gave the clerk ten ten-cent pieces,
and grabbed the receipt from his hand.
The meat was dipped (with fries) in greases,
even here, in this foreign land.

Without cheese or lettuce, the price was so cheap
that I could pay it with change from my pocket.
I needed, I craved, that thin slice of beef
and the two buns that went below and on top it.

Heading out of the restaurant, I almost fell
and tripped over a man in the gutter.
But I ran on nonstop, straightforward, pell-mell,
to a place where I could eat my supper.

I unwrapped the package right next to my face,
to make sure they hadn't forgotten my order.
But everything there was right in its place,
and I thought to myself "MMMmmm....borger...."

>>16468860
Americaboo

Amateur drivel. Now pic related is a true masterpiece of burgerpunk literature.

what the fuck is "burgerpunk"?

>>16475243
> burgerpunk has been described as the aesthetic reconciliation of the postmodernist individual recognizing the cognitive dissonance between the vast nature of corporate service-based globalization and the individualist nature of consumption forced upon them by the very nature and propaganda of their capitalist benefactors. The genre's backdrop explores the conflict between traditional american sensibilities inflated to a caricature by exaggerated use of freeway systems, suburban growth, and franchise based food products against the cynical nature of the average american blooming into a genuine need for individualized and personalized culture after slowly exchanging their ancestor's cultural heritage for their own force-fed culture of ease of access and frugality. Issues of hopelessness, automation, and complacency contrast the information provided through constant access to media and propagandized geopolitical news. The genre itself, becoming a meta commentary on other fantasy or science fiction based genres by using the actual occurring landscape as the basis for literary escape.

It gives tendies anons excuses to write what they know.

>>16475089

Yeah America is great. Also author is American just exiled

>>16468860
there's a tommi's in chelsea, much better than mcd

>>16475763
Yeah but do they have 1£ chicken sandwiches

>>16475122
fantastic

I love it, anon.

>>16475382

People give Burgerpunk a bad name. It is not an indictment of capitalism. It is an observation of the humanity that still lives on in the shells of the companies that capitalism will move beyond when it transports its consciousness into the next dimension that doesn't deal with humans (i.e., away from oil, carbon).

Once capital is exorcized from the local McDonalds, the McDonalds is reterritorialized as home. And in a quaint way, but yet still hollow and perhaps even sad, it is a warm campy feeling that provides catharsis.

9/30/20

Dinner on Interstate 70

You’re that one, so I’ll wait right here.
As the small droplets add on to one
another and talk about how their day
went and how rough the flight was

out of the spring and how they can’t
wait to retire once more into the ice
of infinity before the planet explodes
and leaves in millions of years, their

nonexistent clothes and briefcases and
after work snacks clutched tightly to
their surface tensions as they speed
through the glass, none of them cry out

more than the young man sitting deep
inside the human body that looks out
the Wendy’s window and into the
dim roundabout just in view. A small

intersection where cars go wherever
they want, because the highway at this
time of night is dead and the lights strung
overhead blink faithfully one after another

without respite for whoever is waiting.
Nobody is waiting these days, just small
change that knocks the droplets into
one another as they try to figure out what’s

going on and where they’re going, once
it stops raining and the newest sandwich
no longer has people to buy it anymore.

>>16476509
I’m afraid of Americans
I’m afraid of the world

>>16468860
When the smoke came heavy
And the outdoors smelled like
A burning forest, giant trees
Older than the presence of
Us on this cursed continent were
Turned to particles and filtered through
My lungs, transformed into
Grey phlegm, mucous brown and thick
Which clings to the back of your throat and
Comes out in line in the grocery store onto
The inside of your mandatory mask

When the air was thick with these trees
Bright and early I drove my
Old stick shift, one of almost none on the road
Head aching to the temperomandibular
Joint, I needed some kind of
Stimulant bolus, to which I've become
Accustomed- it no longer
Piques my blood pressure or induces the old
Tooth gritting paranoia

Starbucks:
Due to air quality we will be closed today and tomorrow

McDonalds, staffed by middle aged
Mexican woman- everyone knows Mexicans dont get sick.
Over sweetened iced coffee.

Ventured out into the world
Alienated from forces and spirit
A space entirely of objects, which
Cannot call to you except with
Explicit chemical reward.

Like that time you cried in front of
A big fat rothko, somehow lost
The thread of the true interaction.
In favor of feeling in the dark for yellow and red
big data knows
When the kids finally catch up
My hastily drawn, hand shaking maps
To treasure hidden long ago
Are rejected: young men make good eating.

>>16476899

Great, great gif too

>>16476749

Good, especially from the voice of an American

>>16468860
embarrassing

if you guys were true bugerpunkers you’d know that steak and shake is the oasis, not McDonald’s. do better yurobrats

>>16479100

also Waffle House at 2am*

>>16479037
all poetry is embarrassing because it lacks the post-irony that pathetic dejected children that follow pseuds like thebookclub and sam hyde need to keep a wall between them and real emotion