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we went to Little Blue that summer in a bum'd car. riding in extravagance we couldn't afford. camping in the Oklahoma ozarks, we brought liquor. the two of us drank a half-litre honey whiskey and twenty-eight of thirty Pabsts. your chick only nab'd two. we were sunk from that point on. i vomit'd behind the car, and there were left retched handprints. left were a phantom's handprints, having been drown'd by their hedonism. the bikers partied along with us apart from us. they ask'd to use our hatchet, that's the way we met. men share tools, and that was the only instance of civility for two days. we ran feral. rip'd shirt to ribbons, wrap'd them 'round a stick, soak'd citronella, commenced adventure. returning,    two hours time gone; returning,    scratch'd and bleeding; returning,    we lit their paths with    torch burning a primal fire; sleep, pass'd out by fire in lounge chair. been in this spot before, knew to bring a quilt and mine was the only one. startled awake, fire nothing more than nightlight embers. raccoon, sitting upright, stared from his high perch of a picnic table. apple in paws, nibbling, he mock'd and monitor'd. i swiped at it with a stick, missed. said **** it. slept in the car that night.
0
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 7:23 AM UTC
memories. pt1
we went to Little Blue that summer in a bum'd car. riding in extravagance we couldn't afford. camping in the Oklahoma ozarks, we brought liquor. the two of us drank a half-litre honey whiskey and twenty-eight of thirty Pabsts. your chick only nab'd two. we were sunk from that point on. i vomit'd behind the car, and there were left retched handprints. left were a phantom's handprints, having been drown'd by their hedonism. the bikers partied along with us apart from us. they ask'd to use our hatchet, that's the way we met. men share tools, and that was the only instance of civility for two days. we ran feral. rip'd shirt to ribbons, wrap'd them 'round a stick, soak'd citronella, commenced adventure. returning,    two hours time gone; returning,    scratch'd and bleeding; returning,    we lit their paths with    torch burning a primal fire; sleep, pass'd out by fire in lounge chair. been in this spot before, knew to bring a quilt and mine was the only one. startled awake, fire nothing more than nightlight embers. raccoon, sitting upright, stared from his high perch of a picnic table. apple in paws, nibbling, he mock'd and monitor'd. i swiped at it with a stick, missed. said **** it. slept in the car that night.
townsendfm
Written by
Moroccan
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 7:23 AM UTC
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