Friday, October 09, 2009

Pre Traumatic Stress Syndrome

Crawling on all fours through fun city dreams
lay a punch in the face of the night
shuffling faces glide from affinity's stare
everything men say they will always take care
its not when you stay put, its where.
fantasee me on a plain brown stage
shake teeths of read and fists of page
bleeding in the dancehall on coasters and bearings
writing and texting while hating and caring
pidgeonholed in doldrums
typecast in sad sackism
random head wackism
blue blue these children sit
in sedations way
donefore in the folklore of anonymous days
doggish strays
chasing tails like grown men do in a
ceiling stare
too late to sleep it off
too heavy to sleep it in.

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