The long awaited.
Posted: January 19th, 2005, 11:48 pm
I turn on the computer. drink my beer and it is cold up here. Poetry prose? "Ekk" corso said on a movie about the beat generation, or a movie about kerouac, same difference. I sit hear and the world is dead at this instance. the weather is strange and growing in my mind is question.
-why is it going to all come down before I am done, before I am grown.--it sticks to my mind in the metro on the way home. after sales, to old and young, scams from the haert, to the heart. Money has become our souls, and we are lumps of cole.
-why is it going to all come down before I am done, before I am grown.--it sticks to my mind in the metro on the way home. after sales, to old and young, scams from the haert, to the heart. Money has become our souls, and we are lumps of cole.