Swirling sticks in a half full glass of the dark while you blew smoke. The ice clinked and the precious liquid spilled over the side and onto my shoes while you rapped about nonsense and people that I’d never heard of. Kids ran by while I cringed and scrunched hoping they weren’t in earshot of your drunken perversion. The air filled with hot air and atrocity until you fell, relieving me of my post as their guardian.
77 Words About Last Night (10-7-11)
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BLONDE ON BLONDE 