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KEATS WAS RIGHT

Locom towns rattle the boy and ball with
smells of dampening death
bedded in looms of wool
woven through her cat's eyes on the roadway.

In so much,
his tableau of pills lined up in a row
grasped frequently under tonight's pillow summon
ballet-esque the weight waters
to wash like slew through
the chips of his tooth
until he realised Keats was...
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VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
gigondas:
The West is fantastic. Such a different feeling- laid back.

If you have time, you should drive from San Fran to Seattle. Northern California and Oregon are unbelievably fucking gorgeous and you can stop in Portland.
The PDX is way more fun than Seattle.
gigondas:
The train is cheap. Time consuming though. The view is amazing and trains are such a vital part of the soundtrack of America. Trains and cars.Johnny Cash and Bo Diddley.
Huh.

I'm going back to New York in two weeks.
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GYPSY LAWS

To the call of the gypsy in the throws of midnight
(I answered)
"yes" I said "I am still drinking the wine"
as though the years between were the passing of time
to when the women I knew felt much more kind,

a sip of rose to teach the law of love from the choices a young girl must make,
the warmth and...
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Burdens pass brick by brick
to the floor in reddening dust,

expectations hook and
run amok
in the place of weak wills and hearts,

the re-recording of your voice patter
is not only flattery
but a matter of utmost sincerity
and inscrutable accuracy,

so too the pink you paint over your nails as we talk,
and the empty echo of cars passing by the window...
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The fingertrails in the cracked wash basin
lay unshaven for four days,
clean.

We slipped away in sprightly conversation
over carrot cake and teas,
the electric blue of your eye shadow
matching the t-shirt you wore underneath,
yes,
I noticed.

A rosary passed by the seasons
slight in breath on the back of my door,
ties and affection glitter in pirouettes
like lovers eyes settled...
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gigondas:
This is my response.
gigondas:
Sorted then.
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It was the swallowing handshake,
that was the thing,
it's then that I knew.

As the neighbour bangs on the ceiling at half past two
I'm here lay in blankets alone with Tiny Dancer
calling
midnight to May.

Now let's get one thing straight,
I don't want you to think I'm unhappy,
but for the first time I feel like he felt.

Weather beaten and...
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Sweet cut butter lays on the edge of my porcelain plate,
spiced apricots in burnished rose and rusty sunrise yellow
sit half eaten like hallows of gold amongst wheat,

the breakfast smile gapes between us
warm and distant.
All we can do to stop our tired heads falling to the table,
elbows twitching nervously at the
misplaced kiss after a good day.

Sunday paper blues...
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GEAS OF THE ONES
Shards of twisted arm
bones

in a room
with incense burns up the wall

burns on you

I weaved grasses through the bars of sheened glass
soiled with desperate finger printclutches
covered like the ones I saw
on the public toilet wall.

Humming creases of broken orange,
rescinding the Geas on our parts for nowt,
trailing roads of whitey towers and...
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Today was not a good day, neither was yesterday or the day before. Suffering set backs and let downs, feeling pummeled by the world, making bad choices out of hurt and anger. Instant regret, self destructive bents that pull all the walls around you down.

Everything you once stood for, or at least you believed you stood for in pieces. Through my actions. Those of...
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VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
sophie_ski:
It does exist...you are bound to be self destructive you arent ready for it.

Its like pudding. If you eat your pudding before dinner it sucks, however good it is. Everything just isnt right. But if you eat it after dinner its right. Its perfect and you feel pure content.

Weird analogy, I know! but I think in terms of food.

Once you have had your fill of dinner, pudding will just work. Even though you want it now. kiss
gigondas:
I don't think there is a key.
Just wake up every day and try to do your best, be your best.

Or just drink.
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LONDON -> CAROLINA -> NYC -> LONDON

Flaunted birds flight spays the feather clouds, whizzing and humming over the silent wings of the church on the North parkside. Elevated semblant rye talk comes all comely in my ear of my flying partner, the Scots widow fraught in conversational joy announces my oeuvre to the constancy masses congregated in rows, rows, rows.

The ache of the...
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VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
gigondas:
About London, how so?
gigondas:
Never even been to Europe. Canada once. That's it.
I've often dreamed of London. There's just so much to cover here, first, ya know.

Is London as mad as New York?
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SWANS IN ALCHEMY GREY

I wait for the watchings of
swans sketched in alchemy grey,
swanning over sympathy the
slaked lakes sinister and wild

left me anxious for new ways of feeling,
hushed angels buckled in rust
swooping too high with pearly wings
so murky the snow knocks me out,

I don't care for it,
the broken mirror blues,

my breath in your hair could...
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VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
gigondas:
I had an utterly amazing time. Best vacation ever.
Where in the East Village were you? That's where I stayed.
gigondas:
My feet were in agony by day three.
New York definitely demands you walk her streets.
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I throw out

six crumbles of cheese,
a cornice of stale baguette and
noodles thinly veiled in a Kung Po sauce
and I contemplate another night spent on the floor of the front room.

Burnsandbruises on my ribsandhips.

'heavy spooning',

fizzing pages of Ulysses and Big Sur,
alternating chapters,
desolations and dharmas,
quite the literary theologian
consorting with my two favourite Jacks and James.

Lindy-hops...
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Lady Muck and all of her Friends

On the face of it
the skull beneath the skin
squeals with impassioned smiles,
tears glistened green under the lights,
eyescohort: our man

dwindled in unconscious want of milk from a tit,
to hang freely from it,
bare and
open,
hessian coated arms

cremated in the gutter of weeds
astride the front gate of dark,
mumbling lies in...
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