razorville – Lady on a Wire

New Book Release!

Our Tiktok poetry series is now a book! This was an awesome poetry collaboration with Mike Zone and artist Paul Warren. Check out this poetry chaos, it’s pretty unique! You can find Razorville on Amazon at this link: https://a.co/d/5LGuUty

Razorville is a unique collaboration between poets Shannon Lynette “Poetry is a beautiful sickness” and Mike Zone “Poetry…painting with words, mass psychosis with a shotgun” along with fantastic visual contributions by UK artist Paul Warren. Poetry on a tight rope guided by razors going on a series of schizophrenic travels in the mind’s eye. A frenetic love-song? Masturbatory self revelry? What started off as poetic correspondence turned into a tiktok video series now see if fully presented as it was meant to be… Words and art collide in a delicate balance of worlds between worlds.

Published by Dumpster Fire Press

Iridescent Madness (lady on a wire#10)

(Lady on a Wire and Mike Zone collaboration)

the mind is a weird mechanism
moving into exile
anytime on purpose

a reservoir of secrets
burning alive with
subliminal messages
of rebound history lessons

shaped with shiny flakes of spiderwebs
getting thrown in the wind
but never finds a place to stick
there are no happy accidents
and this world is turning to shit
feeling exposed with dark matter
bubbling up from the center

it’s part of the universe
made from radioactive waste
of distant suns
where orchestrated desires
will only last for so long

space diamond dust
will pepper the fire
with its nuclear waste
metal

no one’s safe from
marching ghosts
raking over coals
from one dimensional space

random thoughts
raw desires
whirlwinds of counterfeit
romances

all tucked away in the
asylum of locked doors
where hollowed out metaphors
walk alone

fuck love
i said fuck love

it’s all going to shit anyway
and all that’s left is our dead eyes
trying to save us all

Deadtown (lady on a wire#5)

(Lady on a Wire and Mike Zone collaboration)

red death illusions
marking territories
with no vacancy signs
rolling up locked and loaded
giving off pistol whipped
confusion

i’m out for the bounty
in this dead town
holding hands with
black velvet shadows
ready for all this
cheap motel dinner theater
chatter

nothing is holy in this vortex
filled with verbs and nouns
hung together suffocating
into nothingness

tumbleweed gestures
lost in the language
of musty old gas stations
ponying up to glory holes
just to feel mildly amused

casting silhouettes at high noon
from words too wild to tame
these words roll them out
on the butcher block
cutting them into magical
delusions

the west will never fall
because desire and prophecy
are one in the same
as you fill up on wandering space
they’ll both be catcalling your name

the time has come
fondle the forefront
and click your heels
because there is
no place like home