this ishow necessary it is to be woven into the American fabric.
asnjkgThe air was thick, smog-like, and almost tangibly hovered out in front of me. It had a distinct feel and smell that was distinguishable from any other scent I had ever encountered. Petroleum and autumn harvest. Diesel and pastures. Exhaust fumes and freshly tilled soil. Industry and the old world. Imitation Coke cans littered the compacted dirt road ahead of me, and I could hear the rustle and murmurs of foreign tongues yapping indecipherably to my untrained ears. The airport was still energetically spitting out zombie-passengers who stumbled off their 22-hour flight Thriller style. Yet, I was awake enough to capture every foreign sight thatasnjkg
bus ride home8:18pm, Wed 01/21/2009 it burned me from the inside like thousands of roman candles spitting fire across my inward sky. The navy sheet feigned a smile across my stars and watched in a mollified replica, the sudden corrosive effects of the fire of hurt, melancholy, and relationships. And as the audience of my mind awed in unison at the beautiful asperity that has become of me, flames doused my erratic heart, and i silently endured the logical dictation of my senses.bus ride home
mindfulhopelessness traversed the atmosphere to create particles composed of plasmic stars, and light-years away from the great supernova, auroras of wavelengths took quantum leaps of fate and mainfested themselves in front of my doorstep. And there i sat, observing the glowing mass until day escaped my retinas and twilight came with a macabre force.mindful
Dusk filled the capillaries in my lungs, displaced my oxygen, and left me in what would seem like a tragic fate--drowning in the absent spectrum of light. it tore me inside out with a sudden exhale of regression, blowing silent winds into an unforgiving light, capture the
black doves in june afternoonsselling souls for tarnished gold almost as etched as the silver inside. like decrepit creatures made of metal brought to you from your first bridal shower. they sit in cabinets next to the bottles of whiskey you bought when "honey" and "love" failed to bring any more reason than wearing sunglasses at midnight. and those black doves on your wedding day still don't make sense to you.black doves in june afternoons
Counting Backwards to 100A November-in-October wind carries a single feather over early nighttime football playing, football fields. The home team loses 7 to 42; a quaterback sees the feather, desperately reaches for it, and misses. 30 miles and 21 hours later he sees it again, rising and falling with the acceleration and braking of rush hour traffic.Counting Backwards to 100
The polaroid pictures in albums continue to Midwestern high school double eyed streetlights planted in cracked pavement parking lots, the bad blue paint jobs of outer school walls, numerous teenage peoples of 1969 with names i've never known. Somewhere between here and the distant blue, a cluster of orange
Sympathy
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\"I saw it happen. Ten pounds lost in ten minutes standing with the syringe in one hand holding his pants up with the other, his abdicated flesh burning in a cold yellow halo, there in the New York hotel room.\"- burroughs
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\"I saw it happen. Ten pounds lost in ten minutes standing with the syringe in one hand holding his pants up with the other, his abdicated flesh burning in a cold yellow halo, there in the New York hotel room.\"- burroughs
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\"I saw it happen. Ten pounds lost in ten minutes standing with the syringe in one hand holding his pants up with the other, his abdicated flesh burning in a cold yellow halo, there in the New York hotel room.\"- burroughs
b) post those pictures as deviations, if any are good
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\"I saw it happen. Ten pounds lost in ten minutes standing with the syringe in one hand holding his pants up with the other, his abdicated flesh burning in a cold yellow halo, there in the New York hotel room.\"- burroughs
--
\"I saw it happen. Ten pounds lost in ten minutes standing with the syringe in one hand holding his pants up with the other, his abdicated flesh burning in a cold yellow halo, there in the New York hotel room.\"- burroughs
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