Disclaimer: I do not own "Newsies" or any of the genius associated to them. Disney owns them, no infringement intended. I am not making money from this in any way, I claim no rights to the characters mentioned from the movie, but I do claim the plot and the ideas surrounding this story. Don't steal, don't sue, and I'm sure we will all be grand friends.
A/N: Hey, look ma! New fiction! (After what? A year? Yeah yeah. Whatever.) For those of you who read Boy Anachronism this format will be familiar territory. For those of you haven't (shame on you) it is really pretty simple. This first chapter is a poem of an untraditional sort, and every chapter following will be an extrapolation on each sequential section of the poem. It is easy to see what I mean once I actually get there, or you could check out Boy Anachronism and get a feel for how this one will be. Enjoy!
Warning: PG (slight sexual innuendo)
i.) his eyes are all java&jazz
something's always brewing&unresolved
leather/westward bound
he has such big dreams
they're spilling over into hers
tonight she doesn't mind so much
-------------------->> >> >> >> > (she doesn't dream)
ii.)
her smile is all sugar&silk
all untried innocence&unbroken trust
(he swears there's nothing like it)
he flips through her pages (but there's nothing flippant about it)
book marks are superfluous
he intends to memorize her
------------------>> >> >> .> >> (she's let him)
iii.)
his thoughts are all bullets&brilliance
everything about him rapid fire&radiant
ink/coffee stains ruin sheets
(some stains never come out)
broken bindings&dog eared corners
he never check the safety
iv.)
her laugh is all lemonade&lace
completely antebellum belles&debutantes
they gravitate to the familiar
&& it is drying his flow
HE SAYS:
"change facilitates growth."
he never could say a word that mattered
(unless he wrote it down first)
v.)
his room is all crystal&capital buildings
beautiful outside&utter clutter inside
those scribbled words are poetic abortions
to emotions which are simply inconvenient
she plays mother&cleans up after him
(it is their biggest pretend)
vi.)
her secrets are all hollywood tabloids&high school gossip
uncompromisably compromised&juvinille
folded/u n f o l d e d like a child's origami
her creases are worn thin on the edges
it would be all too easy to rip her to shreds
----------------------->> (&& he knows it)
vii.)
his plans are 2nd grade&spectacular
uninhibited by reality®ulations
but he could sell lies to Lucifer
(he's done it before)
SHE SAYS:
"sunsets are always so beautiful."
HE SAYS:
"people are always so impressed with things turned upside down."
viii.)
her beauty is all fireworks&frustration
always better in person&always out of reach
2nd to the right && straight on till 3 break
(they're always losing their way)
he takes her (wherever she wants to go)
but only if she wants where he needs to be
ix.)
his language is all canvas&chameleon
constantly embellished&ever changing
he'll say anything to get what he wants
(she'd do it before he asked)
the end of the earth isn't far in promises
but high mileage lessens value
x.)
her kisses are all lion tamers&licorice
inexcusably insane(except for the entertainment value)&chewable
he keeps ones in his back pocket for a snack to share
laced fingers under tables(so 7th grade)
HE SAYS:
"see the lies in their smiles?"
she wonders if he saw hers
xi.) his 3 is all veteran&violated
covered in battle scars&broken barriers
he blows fantasies like smoke through her
pollution colored fairy dust sparkle
she's getting sick from his 2nd hand dreams
(he is deficient)
xii.)
her hair is all superstition&spiderwebs
unapologetically nonsensical&tangled
fingers wade through mated clumps
they've both been running too long to care
(from what were they running?)
THEY SAY:
"just a little bit further - we're almost home."
xiii.)
his body is all high society&hyperbole
tirelessly full of (backhanded) compliments&exaggeration
his grammar is eXXXquisite (but his handwriting atrocious)
the use 3 letters as kindling
they're just weighing them down
it's best to remove the evidence
xiv.)
her touch is all tightropes&tide pools
stretched out&reserved
hands cradled to her breast (so maternal)
he can't be her storyteller tonight
the ticking wasn't enough warning for them
(they never saw the end coming)
xv.)
their lives were like the shoes on their feet
(sketchers v. doc martins)
over used&under appreciated
(worn thin/out)
&& they never could get them quite far enough
(it wasn't in their sole)
A/N: All right. Just to get it out there: this is not going to be the same as Boy Anachronism. There will be similarities (the format, the style, the fact that it is about Newsies, I wrote it, and angst will probably happen in great quantities…) but it is not going to be the same (it's going to be longer and it doesn't have to do with Spot (points to the first person who guesses who the newsie is!)) With all that said: here is to another great run and hopefully something worth reading. It's been a year as a work in progress but I finally have it together enough to post it.