fredag 30. april 2010

VIII/365

.



you can keep your sewage you choose to call love. i've no need to feel guilty. passing the streets like they were nicotine stains on cardboard skin, or just vanishing cause the soul wont let u play with the other kids. now soft mad kids are playing russian roulette. Me? I don't fit in the scheme of Nixons world, George W Bushs' world, Clintons world, make believe world like so much cotton candy hanging from the cunt of the whore who charges 9 dollars for u to prod &poke until it bleeds, picking up the wet bills, to spend on morphine kicks at the train yards, at the docks, at the ferris wheel of doom. but now, getting late, I dont sleep, I've no need to sleep. I keep myself occupied with the princess of the palace, the dawn of the resurrection of myself. You? I wont forget, but can not in all good conscience keep u in my heart no more. Its full, u see? dont u see? U always saw. what the other didnt see saw.




.