Wednesday, September 29, 2010

hypothetical conversations with the cynic part II

    The sun never went down, it just disappeared and left an opacity which didn’t care. Lately I have been thinking a lot about it. I was very young, four or five years old. I understood that it was deeply wrong and I understood that it was an event of such gravity that the prospect of revealing it overwhelmed me.  So I didn’t.

I wish I could have protected you, cynic. I wish you could have protected me. It’s too bad, it’s a shame. It’s a shame how it all went down.

Mama never seemed to be just where you would expect her. Running to the house, I wanted to show off. I had taught myself to swing. You kick your legs. You feel the wave.

Now I’m twenty-two; I drink whisky. I live in a blue house and listen to blue records. I live with the effects of every thing. Wild livin’.  The unspeakable things. The swing.  

I just want to be free of

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