We are caged animals if you can believe a bird of prey can be caged. But let us pray brilliant eternities make it vestigial through some unknown clause in the paperwork that renders my H.R.M. title null. To Hell. I have it in good faith that I have pissed in better places because I have fooled myself into believing certain wares were of regal taste and as it turns, all that shines at one point eventually lacks luster.
But I digress.
What I mean to say is that I am a child of the world who's been barking up the wrong tree. I am thankful the nice phone call came through at a moment tonight were the livelihood of myself and my brother-at-arms was in question. Thank you Jackie for answering your phone. Thank you Mels for the Judo shorts. Thank you world for being round and rendering me insignificant. But moreover, thank you for the phone call baby, thank you for the reminder that I am to a certain extent human and that this Summer of Love is not mine alone. We bleed, we cry, we drink -- we live to allow the cycle to continue. It would be unnatural to break that which will outlast us. Dispense the poetics, I'll see you all in Hell.
"Went to a party,
I danced all night:
I drank sixteen beers
and started up a fight!
But now I'm jaded,
you're out of luck,
I'm rolling down the stairs
too drunk to fuck."
But imagine that all breathy by a French girl. A future ex-wife of a French girl.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Greetings, fellow Palookavillian!
Couldn't help but notice the sage lyrics of the Kennedys here. Had to comment.
Good luck with your site.
the herb
Post a Comment