Denmark smells sweeter

This being not what it’s cracked up to be we conclude that it must be a tragedy, and Faust writes a note to agree with the vote. In ‘that other place’ my face doesn’t fit and never will, not as long as they sit on their arses and waffle on as if nothing is wrong…

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Bombed out

A fractal of a fractured society the ghost that lingers after they fired me the smell in the drains when it rains the nip that you feel in the air when no one is there. I could be lost in space, would you care? no? but don’t you know that I am the floating-point the…

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4/6d

I remember blue films, those reflections in your eyes, and thinking it was cataracts when in fact it was blue skies, a sunny smile the wander down Blackpool’s golden mile, the softest sand that chafed between my toes, the memory of it comes and goes, a bit like the tide…

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