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Hypocrite. My insides ooze

Thursday, March 31, 2011

"....we could plan a murder or start a religon"



I was obsessed with this spoken word poetry album when I was 16. It's still amazing.
I love Jim Morrisons poetry.

SIRENS

Midnight
criminal metabolism of guilt forest
Rattlesnakes whistles catcalls

Remove me from this hall of mirrors
This filthy glass

Are you her
Do you look like that
How could you be when
no one ever could


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Poet of the call-girl storm

She left a note on the bedroom door.
"If I'm out, bring me to."


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I dropped by to see you
late last night
But you were out
like a light
Your head was on the floor
& rats played pool w/ your eyes

Death is a good disguise
for late at night

Wrapping all its games in its calm garden

But what happens
when the guests return
& all unmask
& you are asked
to leave
for want of a smile

I'll still take you then
But I'm your friend

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