3.2.14
from the corner
i used to write like this. i found it and out at the ... no, at similar times. the brushes made some streaks for the kids today. photography and stories of what was. an afternoon slipped on her evening gown and the boy she got cold, shadows, sunsets. theres that rumble again and i hadnt eaten since breakfast with mister infante. smooth and always casual. south san francisco and the pancake house that had pancakes. i ordered eggs because i always do. anothers able to climb into bed now, lofted and teetering on a chest of drawers stool. back to the basics. billy bragg comes to mind. thankful for music most when i can only hear the hum of this screen, the house noises that never present themselves honestly when youre waiting for them and that caustic fucking dog across the street. jams on and the brain shuts off. i listened to static for two hours the other day. it was disguised as a raging river online somewhere. surrounded by fresh air.
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