Thursday, May 28, 2009

Prompts 07:30 Thursday

What’s happening feels like a story

You run towards her even though you know it’s too late

I am not sure what this means or what it will mean

As the man dies she does not know what to do

Standing in the Rain

My neighbours’ gardens

Which is to say, go fuck yourself

Some said it was Satan, others God

In small rooms with small light and small breaths

I would prefer to be nice

Various Churches


Chairman, The Sad Bastard Club

The sound of clanking tracks

They have fitted me with harness and saddle


That night the sea went out and the beach was broken glass

The wind rose up, we knuckled down

Rorke’s Drift

They are taking down the last tree

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