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 Mar 2020 kate
Colm
At the bottom of every cup
Their is either
Acceptance or ignorance
Loss or desire
For more or less knowing
There is thirst in every human throat
For the drink of mind which will return
For some a nothing ounce
For others all which the senses can possibly remeber and inspire
With fire, and water, and heart to beat
No drink lasts by drink
Or by slow plastic perspire
No Human Drink Eternal
 Mar 2020 kate
Colm
Intoxiceyes
 Mar 2020 kate
Colm
Just a quick glance
A purple hue the wine a press
Dulcet and sweet
As it takes just an instant to confirm what she sees
That he is lost in waters
Deep in eyes shut
And unaware of all others in this lovers time
**** it Brad Pitt
 Mar 2020 kate
Colm
Feeling the winding springs beneath
Gravitational pull indefinite
Might leave now
Definitely
A play on feeling cute, might delete.
 Mar 2020 kate
Emily Dickinson
1743

The grave my little cottage is,
Where “Keeping house” for thee
I make my parlor orderly
And lay the marble tea.

For two divided, briefly,
A cycle, it may be,
Till everlasting life unite
In strong society.
 Mar 2020 kate
Christopher Doyle
The tension is mounting, standing in line
Bass reverberates, the sound of things to come
Manic conversation and body language animation
Staying awake until we see the sun.

Enter the venue greeted by sticky collective body heat
The treble of the onslaught of noise now palpable
Without thinking, i begin to move my feet
Becoming one with the masses of bodies moving in unison.

The milk of the night, one in my hand from a mate
I drink it down as I become expectant
Excitedly waiting for my body to be seized
And exited by a juggernaut of positive emotions.

Every stranger is a one minute friend
Micro moments of love become my guide for the night
The music sounds like the songs of the gods
The rhythm and percussion of an underground ritual.

Every touch and taste and sound is heightened
An emanating aura of love surrounds the crowd
Smiles, laughs, hugs and high-fives
Throwing shapes and boogieing down.

As the party creator closes down the night
Masses pour outside drowned by early sunlight
All in search of a beach or after-hours haunt
To continue on their hedonic treadmill.
 Mar 2020 kate
joseph g schelling
natural asphalt
there're lack of workers for them
asphalt lakes, tar pits
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