Sunday, June 01, 2008

splatter 1

a smack of whitman like a few lines cut with baking powder or was it baby powder i can't remember no more it's gone like the rice fields burning in the fall still let us praise emptiness that hollow feeling that arrives unannounced at 3:00 a.m.

there is the belief that life is toil and pain it depends on who you ask survey says we got it wrong again

she says, c'mon babe that ain't for nothing again


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