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In my dream I usually make it to the bar, it's a particular bar an odd bar It's at the end of the shopping mall In my dream just past the book store, the bar front looks like some kind of Irish pub no sign no windows oak doors rock walls fine finish, you walk in your shoes so perfect with it's fine carpet of red silk, to the left of the bar sit the politicians the lawyers the bureaucrats, they all laugh and spill their drinks sloppy in corruption smirks and disgust powdered ******* noses glass eyes, to the right of the bar is where I sit and also sits the average freaks the 9 to 5's the norms the ones that still hold on to a dream but work to survive, a dream for a dream is the only hope left worth holding onto, I drink and laugh at the ****** staring next to me, I blow cigarette smoke In their face "what the **** are you looking at, aha?!" ******* ****** they stare at me with their blank dead eyes and their ******* sag ripping out of their musky ripped blouse almost knocking over their drinks in sorrow and their ***** their ***** hang over the bar stool coming down like a quake an avalanche, the China man to blows smoke in their face and we both laugh in cheers and on any given Sunday at any given moment the little blue man escapes from my heart, the little blue man then guzzles down what's left of my drink and the China mans drink then leaps across the bar, the little blue man glides across the silk red carpet like some kind super human mutant freak, the little blue man jumps and slaps the politicians slaps the lawyers and gnaws on the skulls of the bureaucrats like the cannibal they had made him, eating the flesh as if it were his first taste of meat, the hunger of a man trapped on an island for twenty five years, a conscience that has been trapped in a soul for twenty five more, in my dream I usually make It to the bar, It's a particular bar an odd bar and tonight I didn't, maybe they were closed maybe they weren't, "tell me something little blue man, is there a heaven in hell?" "only for the saints." -Shane Book
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
Alexander Supertramp
In my dream I usually make it to the bar, it's a particular bar an odd bar It's at the end of the shopping mall In my dream just past the book store, the bar front looks like some kind of Irish pub no sign no windows oak doors rock walls fine finish, you walk in your shoes so perfect with it's fine carpet of red silk, to the left of the bar sit the politicians the lawyers the bureaucrats, they all laugh and spill their drinks sloppy in corruption smirks and disgust powdered ******* noses glass eyes, to the right of the bar is where I sit and also sits the average freaks the 9 to 5's the norms the ones that still hold on to a dream but work to survive, a dream for a dream is the only hope left worth holding onto, I drink and laugh at the ****** staring next to me, I blow cigarette smoke In their face "what the **** are you looking at, aha?!" ******* ****** they stare at me with their blank dead eyes and their ******* sag ripping out of their musky ripped blouse almost knocking over their drinks in sorrow and their ***** their ***** hang over the bar stool coming down like a quake an avalanche, the China man to blows smoke in their face and we both laugh in cheers and on any given Sunday at any given moment the little blue man escapes from my heart, the little blue man then guzzles down what's left of my drink and the China mans drink then leaps across the bar, the little blue man glides across the silk red carpet like some kind super human mutant freak, the little blue man jumps and slaps the politicians slaps the lawyers and gnaws on the skulls of the bureaucrats like the cannibal they had made him, eating the flesh as if it were his first taste of meat, the hunger of a man trapped on an island for twenty five years, a conscience that has been trapped in a soul for twenty five more, in my dream I usually make It to the bar, It's a particular bar an odd bar and tonight I didn't, maybe they were closed maybe they weren't, "tell me something little blue man, is there a heaven in hell?" "only for the saints." -Shane Book
shane-joshua-baca
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
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