The visitors

    Looking at lilacs as the hour of midnight comes near and like my poetry, unclear, but I write,   And on the podium where opium is a pipe dream I lean into the light that I see.   Me! screamed someone I knew and it was me.   Always damn daffodils always them…

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Still life

I liked the flowers that sat on the table under the window a while ago and they weren’t you know plastic like they used to be they were picked fresh from the garden which had been planted a year ago which was a longer while ago than I care to remember. there’s something about a…

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Exorcism

Now it gets exciting someone turned out the light and let the night in and it’s backs to the wall as the shadows fall from the rafters. You must be fuckin’ insane if you drop in again out of choice but there’s a voice in my brain saying, what’s wrong with insane because we’re all…

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