Most of the houses on the street are abandoned,. Now rebreathed with wild. Sometimes things can happen even without a place:. A skunk sitting cop-like and sprawled on a porch bench. A gray fox in a baby carriage. They have no mothers. I was read "The Tortoise and the Hare" by my mother every night. Until I grew lop-eared and anxious.
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Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE | big-bill-2.blogspot.com Reviews
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Most of the houses on the street are abandoned,. Now rebreathed with wild. Sometimes things can happen even without a place:. A skunk sitting cop-like and sprawled on a porch bench. A gray fox in a baby carriage. They have no mothers. I was read "The Tortoise and the Hare" by my mother every night. Until I grew lop-eared and anxious.
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Les 2 freres et la couzine. 02/04/2007 at 10:36 AM. 26/05/2007 at 12:17 AM. Subscribe to my blog! Don't forget that insults, racism, etc. are forbidden by Skyrock's 'General Terms of Use' and that you can be identified by your IP address (66.160.134.3) if someone makes a complaint. Please enter the sequence of characters in the field below. Posted on Saturday, 26 May 2007 at 12:17 AM. Le couz1 en plein travail. Boila mon couz1 en plain travail attention! Posted on Sunday, 20 May 2007 at 8:02 AM. Don't fo...
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Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE
The meth heads across the street were hammering at 4 AM. And I envied their stamina. I wished I could know that make . Hammering spikes into their railroad ribs,. To guide the stowaway mouths of little dungeon girls. I saw a lawnmower get exchanged for drugs. I saw a window get pushed through like a wet cardboard box. I saw a man eating phantom berries from a forgotten handrail -. His hair bent and matted from its own weight. Overgrowth is a sign of enlightenment; negligence of worldliness.
Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE
It was in your nature to forget me. The world, a jesus bug skimming over top my clouded face . All I can do is admire its figure. I’ve made a life out of this. Slowly back away from the mess you’ve created. Your hands become transparent. You haunt and roam dimensions and nativities. You finally stop to lie down in the straw.
Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE
Most of the houses on the street are abandoned,. Now rebreathed with wild. Sometimes things can happen even without a place:. A skunk sitting cop-like and sprawled on a porch bench. A gray fox in a baby carriage. They have no mothers. I was read "The Tortoise and the Hare" by my mother every night. Until I grew lop-eared and anxious.
Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE
I forgot my means for motion. I felt all wet and loop-holed like the ache of some forgotten cheese. But then my ends found me, clamped between. The door and doorframe of some purgatorial delicatessen. At some shitty bar while playing pool, a local in a silk-printed Hulk shirt told me to never give up my dreams. The beer was $4 a pitcher. Can you be so depressed that you change into a monster? Not green, but blue.
Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE
Your hand on the nape of my neck. I was puking everywhere that night. I couldn’t feel my body, just some vague sense of wet. Luckily, water is the most clear-cut shot at redemption. I promised to fall like an ocean into whatever arms presented themselves. I let myself fall again and again . I want to be a cold-blooded lifer walking the warm-blooded beaches. I’m so tired of all this skin. Look how far I’ve flowed,. Sympathizing with the physics of a procession,.
Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE
Roaming back to my bearings,. Working 17 hours a week at Staples. How many times have I thought about. Stapling myself to the employee announcement board. And waving at the boss when he walks by to refill his coffee? And he never notices. I let the fantasies of the mundane take hold. I have no idea what I actually do everyday. I kept a daily journal but realized it was full of lies. I tried to smear the pages, but realized it was a bologna sandwich. I poked two holes and wore it on my face .
Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE
Gummed stuck in the meated huff I thought of fishing trips,. That time I saw Grandpa tear his webbing between hand and thumb clean out. Haste was thick and rising. The bass lay in the boat, gaping. It looked at me. I took the hook out.
Big Bill and the Lonely Nation, Part II: PLACES TO GO TO DIE
I caught myself drifting again, metallic pluck of iron sent me hauling. Lined and quartered and pooled in the chumbucket:. My dreams, allowances, or dismembered muse babe. I drank and drank and patted and sang to my stomach . Oh, my little shitshow, I’ll kill you before I get enough of you.
