Twenty two gears

Take a look into the chasm, wake, a spasm, stretch and it will go, but we know there is a void build a bridge cross into the kitchen raid the fridge make your own way back to where it started from, stuff your face pull back the curtains, Irish lace see a brick wall no…

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The pitch

I pick up a pen to write and then the night calls me, literacy falls by the wayside I go topside, all’s forgotten in the heat where dark corners meet and congregate, the paper waits for an explanation I type my resignation under the lights of an examination by the typing pool. She uses oxymoron’s…

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