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this fiction of mine laboured tightly in the skull of memories and mysteries worked to the wheel by furies who deal the willing thread in...

Sunday, May 15, 2011

from ''cochranton dreams''

the winter night opened its wings
and moved in a flight
bathed in white shadows
at once left behind lost
with each precious mile
in the rushing headlamps
bright on the crazied dream
of a corvair ride off 79
with the fields clean
and cold cider fuelin'
hard the running night
of jack and jill mary and bill
and sally passed out on the front seat
so they had to carry her
onto the enchanted hood
and massage her big tits
with beautiful snow
until she came to moaning
then gathering all the stars
they loaded back in the car
and went along with the night
shot like guns in the distance

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