it comes down at last like a storm of stones
three years' worth of tears and fears and pain
buckets-full of years
grave-day loads of bones
all is new & now, all old & then
the bed the same
but we're li'll nemo here
with my unknown past
on your tender shoulders
you make me fly
on
up
into us
13/05/2013
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CANEÇAS
Superheated air streams in Through the driver-side window as I burn the car Across the blistering heat, exhuming Ian Curtis's Pompeian ...
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erratic echoes of a swallow's cries faint and shrill, lost midget amid the persian blue vault of turquoise and gentian tiles, pool...
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go and ride a thousand days, my clear-eyed messengers, scour all points of the compass and find me a glimpse of iridescence for shining...
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single pidgeon in the distance of boundless grey suburban skies. sombreness dememoritised
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