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Monday, February 6, 2012


I watched the chem trails wade across the blue skied range
wailing pink
splatters of paint...
vomiting the suds of this sour mash gasoline
faint breaths as the stored psychopsylocibin reached my eyelids
time became mere currency...
i know..its madness...
In this state I see,
and seem to be in
preaching to my soul
my lesson is rarely relative to these
struggles of modern men
it is what it is

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