November 2, 2004

  • The misery of the blues has led credence to hues of
    frolicking pain The greatest thought outgrew the singeing name of brews
    enhanced by tears  grow grow grow the night into a blithe torrent of smeared
    agony of the heart, the part that felt anew a rolling joint of braking,
    grinding names out of the hat they fell and felt a need to pass a circumspect
    remark on the outgrown and passing fanciful adieus anew anew the thought that life could never grow apart from
    details hanging through a branch of light mildew it is but a storm that’s
    passing through. 


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