I found this tonite...haven't seen it in 6 years...don't know "where " i was then besides residing in NYC..I thought I would post it to practice typing and induce head scratching everywhere else...I'm positive it was about a cornucopia of fabricated creations, since it makes fifteen percent sense.
I methodically think back to an hour or two ago walking behind a thousand sweetnesses in a cradle of satin the crease of your jeans and the mad wet mystery inbetween. A fashion week ass and that above the bra line boob surge like an inner tube gone awry. All day long so lonely. tongue in a groove in a dream how electricity comes and goes from mad wattage to outage within ten city blocks. Anxiety wardrobes and dead calms. Mornings vs. friday nights in an amateur extreme fighting championship. Ken Shamrock of the AM vs. Mr. Gracie of the PM. Tao of the tai chi vs. brute force blood drain teeth flared ears hot ignite mans head is made of thunderstorm to drown the fire in the heart. And I don't walk as aimless anymore. I head for the early train catch a flick in my cube read some scribe in the dark fall under when the body tells me to. Ahh sleep so safe. No scab left to scrape. Phone numbers dwindle down to simple math. 2 plus 2. So simple and new. If I don't stay busy. The vultures pass on my open wounds, but on their way away, they let the robins know of the rich grey worm within the helmet of my head. It is only guarded when I'm switched on. Auto pilot makes me fair game for the scavengers. The driven. The winners. The gene pool lottery sinners...bitches click their heels.. witches make the deals, give you half a pass and show you how it feels..your'e just a human....victim of the InSane...isolation.....the sun may never disappear ...but the world may not have many years...isolation.