No Camera

Mega urban tool

Posted in Reality by ION on 02/06/2009

Force at the hands of strangers, screwed up A4s
Experience on the northern outskirts of scratched LPs
Covers, as seen by the fence guy while he stops remembering me or
When sitting impatient in his inbox.
Type something good, until this place is closed, about
Hazy memories of electric summers and
Feverish rainy nights, passed out seconds later.
I, too, get pretty sick of hanging up with an ill mix of paper food
Head pounding and fuzzy brained at the thought of it all.
Suddenly, I feel proud to be badly dressed,
In those cheap rags that once a poor Indian sold me,
When I was traveling around this fading world
Without definite destination,
Or at least a serious intention to talk about it.


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