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Published on Nov 8, 2009
nothing ever happens when you are alone and at the bottom and when the nights draw into subconsciousness until remembrance an avalanche ot rolling weights squeezes your feet and only later does sweat begin to interfere
only later does the city awaken
some tattered streets the flash of wet tracks the first tram through the suburbs grows in my eyes
morning ritually descends upon the stage with regard i move out of the way a double dosquise on his face makes providence excessive how can i control myself when this feeling so different from everything that i understand from everything that i want to see is destroying me
something like a flash
again i saw a film about disillusionment or maybe it was a chronicle ot the unknown because that's what a man neither alive nor dead nor a sailor is called if i ever have my wish and you agree thinking it's the only way to keep him if i ever make it there where fear subsides i'll be ready to forget some tattered streets the flash of the wet tracks the first tram over the suburbs shine in your eyes