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life will begin one of these days
1:23am and i'm still biting my nails in a room
with a couch, plants, a lit cigarette, piss limp memories, myself
i keep losing it, missing a hinge, banging against the wall
when you were in love, did you remember 
the cute way their shit curled while it floats
green drain leaves road marrow and i'm anxious
about my old lover and his friend
and whether or not they're going to hang me in a tree
for telling their little secret 
to the high school crowd
when hallucinating it is wise not to tell people what you see
when your eyes are open it is not wise to tell people what you see
unless you lie
i'm not so clever, and he's right, i've been sick lately
cutting my arms and making ape sex faces 
i dont care what you do and what i say isn't what i'm thinking
it is only fragmented notes from a spoke welt wire comb bent shell horn telling
bits of dry tabeltop music for you not to kill me
yes, im afraid of people who freely use the word faggot
who talk openly of their sex lives, who vie for attention
laugh happily, speak congenially, but
i don't care about you
the boy prince of the railroad with leaves in his hair
shaved off to feather the gutter
i am afraid i hate myself i hate people and their facile
ways, i find little inspiration to be alive in daily life
i want to get drunk, i want to drink, i want to get drunk on wine tonight
i want to stammer crooked lines in the dim street light
i am no body no head i am voice i am box music box chattering
full of full dentures to place sink to rest gently to float gently the bottom
of clear water-glass window leaf sway to sidewalk to the wind
sway in the paper stained to soup wing pigeons shitting babble the walk
shit the walk where we walk in our shoes to restaraunts love death
the leaves fall air time waltz rain heavy sway to garbage rest sleep we
sway from the tree on the breeze to dance weightlessly above the 
streets we lay to sleep bottles crashing linoleum floor
i squeeze my heart i shiver i am hanging wet on the line to dry
in a rainshower and watching love grow old
through a salt stained window pain

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