Locked in pub land the eagles playing on the video jukebox. The treasure is all spent and the unlimited air is all but gone. Gasping and drinking in the same breath. You are no one cast in the bridge pillar night. Someone forgot the past and we all forgot them. Lost somewhere down the back of the lounge.

Crimson fish spawn in aqua jelly moulds. I wanted nothing. Sometime soon, drawn and weak I still sit waiting.

Lack of paper precedes me.


~ by abagash on July 3, 2003.

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