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Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Big River Harp

Didn’t mean to act so quickly, he was bigger and I knew he was scary, I wasn’t worried, but something, yeah something about you is true, for a kid who pukes on doorsteps at four in the morning, life is worthless in the ways of getting it all together, yeah I like her, I like her, I’ll admit it, and kicks messing around in laundry bins and breaking things and sound of light is scary, its fast right, it’s a corner weight a counter play on being someone real. Sure I did it, I said it I mean it, something wont change for me and that’s nothing new, look I’m not always trying to be smarmy, I think and feel real things devoid of sarcasm, regardless of whether it makes its way to strength, regardless, irregardless, shambles of life in a basket, a weave so broken in every different pattern of speech, I make no less impression for who I choose to be, on the white toothed boardwalk, the black nails ache, and every sailing minute of failing the trial of time, of purpose, of loosing, and waking and busting all the thing left to shake in, you are the end of nothing son, you are nothing left of nothing love, climb on and scratch, it’s a directional endless flailing strut of current afterthoughts, yeah I like her, I can admit it, for a kid with busted hope I am careless with the pieces.

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