I was born, starving, on the streets of Frankston
It felt much to me, as if I had been born alone, on the streets of Paris
I appeared parentless and without a home
A child in the night, but a red wine adolescent sleeping; in the mornings
And as I wandered the needle strewn shores of Kannanook Creek
I felt maybe I was cruising on the Seine, eating fresh breads and drinking sweet wines
I did not notice the passing of time
And for the losing of innocence, and the first breaking of ones heart
It felt much to me like the passing events of a great Greek tragedy
And when I broke myself upon the shores of addiction
The shores of sorrow, and the shores of schizo-phrenia
It felt much to me as if I was seeking a bohemia, dead upon the cogs of capitalism
And so I checked the time on my iphone, ordered a soy latte from the store
Sat quietly in the sun and fell in love with strangers
a close imitation of my favourite poets.. the beat generation.. not meant as a slight on copyright.. but an ode to them...
It felt much to me, as if I had been born alone, on the streets of Paris
I appeared parentless and without a home
A child in the night, but a red wine adolescent sleeping; in the mornings
And as I wandered the needle strewn shores of Kannanook Creek
I felt maybe I was cruising on the Seine, eating fresh breads and drinking sweet wines
I did not notice the passing of time
And for the losing of innocence, and the first breaking of ones heart
It felt much to me like the passing events of a great Greek tragedy
And when I broke myself upon the shores of addiction
The shores of sorrow, and the shores of schizo-phrenia
It felt much to me as if I was seeking a bohemia, dead upon the cogs of capitalism
And so I checked the time on my iphone, ordered a soy latte from the store
Sat quietly in the sun and fell in love with strangers
a close imitation of my favourite poets.. the beat generation.. not meant as a slight on copyright.. but an ode to them...