That dirt drive at the edge of the city Gave us the most uncanny bucolic world 8 acres of non developed real estate Huck Finn and Daniel Boone would be envious Gonna Evel Kenievel over Richy, Bobby, Jeff. Daryl, and Tony Hope we don't break any bones Street lights start buzzing Take home your hockey sticks Gramps is on the front porch Telling stories about mowing down the Germans Day dreaming of our blonde beauty Got the tingles, I've got a crush on her ...
It is beautiful raining morning. The traffic is set like military greetings the flag. The red light of the cars decorate the blurry view through the torring rain pour. And the windscreen clean gently waving left and right and believers waving hand in worship.
From my window I glance at the beauty of the nature.
It was all quiet. The rain beating the earth like Chinese "gaogu" Rythme with the cars engines.
Her perfect body sculpted by the suprime God himself, appear at the gaze of all.
Why do you still hold on to that foolish hope? Surely you know that you are better suited alone Why lie that anyone should care for you? You take without guilt or discrimination Do not pretend to have grown a conscience How do you think yourself good? You only speak to them when you want something And leave them unable to answer You will always hunger Always thirst And never learn
i have no secrets left everything has been surrendered -- it was all mundane and of little interest to anyone all my catastrophes -- the hair loss, the unrequited affections, etc. -- were apparently flashes in the pan of an ordinary life, worthy of a sympathetic nod or a little reassurance or maybe some half-assed advice from a stranger eating a stale doughnut in a church basement
all my addictions were easily overcome
my proclivities were banal -- i said banal -- with a "b" all my sins were venial -- the priest sighed and i said...
a child in danger at the waters’ edge No. 2 from The Children’s Collection
i saw myself in the river, though scarcely could i swim; my whole self started to quiver, while stood i on the brim. i danced about like a vapour with hands and feet and eyes, as floaty as human paper; the waters were my skies.
at first, i loved the excitement: it seemed that i could fly! but when i saw the embankment, i knew that i could die. the trees and hilltops were seeming to make me sail upstream; how could i stand there...