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Untitled

I. Summer pictures litter her walls

Glitter infestations

Second grade yearbook

And a signed portrait of that one indie celebrity.

What’s his name?

Jimi Hendrix?

Or Rob the Bone Crusher?

Was it that guy from New England?

With the Iced Tea, and the apartment?

You know that really, really big condo.

 

II. in 1995 you were all hot and heavy

******* and bumping in the clubs

Sinking your teeth into whatever

Or whoever you could find

Like ****** and some of that crystal ****

You said you liked the way it felt

When it ran down your veins

 

III. I remember the nights you cried

You said you’d feel this way forever

And I said well…probably.

 

IV. 7 AM, you’re still out clubbing.

Out on the streets like a little hoodlum

Looking for your fix in the alleys

Of a suburb of your suburb of Minneapolis.

Anything you can shoot, smoke, snort or swallow

You’re down.

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Written by
connor-thomas
Published
Sep 18, 2012
Lines·Words
26·156
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