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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...

Thursday, June 20, 2013

downtown acid

here i go
         i can't make out what 
the rumour is that goes right
as leftwich steps on the gas
and we go up and the clouds
are wind in our ears whispering
nonsense and bits of satisfying 
sing-alongs on bridges falling
and falling into a brooklyn
where tim leary is yet awaited
and everyone is an undercover
the kind who blows its cover  
with a barrage of foul language
over some wise kid moving a street 
barrier for no conceivable reason
   you could know the truth just once
   out of the hat or the chiaroscuro
hear here panthers lay on carpeting
plush plus we are getting shafted
they say _it's okey let's skedaddle
before it all comes crumbling down
   we could break through once more
we got tickets for the warhol show
it's rock and roll and even the cat's
cool now and the breeze it's sudden
on our face and the ride and the view

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