We played blackjack taco until the early mourning sun singed the obsidian sky into submission
singling the onslaught of dawn rising like ravishing wildfire over a horizon of jagged glacier crafted mountains peaked with diamonds coal and gold
We flipped stacks and stacked flips
Pushed coins and collected IOUs
Spilled ink and broke pens
Too many hours in the Night Jazzing about youth and the repercussions of aging in a time when aging was an agonizing sin we cured with creams and needles
The table was deliberately a mess with scattered tea leaves half smoked sticky icky sticks full of inspired inspirations, drained drank empty wine bottles and other alcoholic deviances, and incoherent ramblings cauterizing the senses
uncompleted poems full of scribbled and scratched out words poke out from anyplace not covered by crumpled origami cash resting like a weird paper green zoo of swans frogs and paper airplanes.
The suns rays manage to find that one area in between the window shades and curtains to shine brilliantly into our darkly kept stygian tomb
Illuminating a night of lexicon ****** broken handed betting, and passion only poets and writers aspire to conquer
We rubbed out our sleepless crusted eyes and gathered our ink stains and haunted dreams and left into the morning that we found in some skeletol low rent motel room on the side of this deserted desert highway...
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 7:54 AM UTC
We played blackjack taco until the early mourning sun singed the obsidian sky into submission
singling the onslaught of dawn rising like ravishing wildfire over a horizon of jagged glacier crafted mountains peaked with diamonds coal and gold
We flipped stacks and stacked flips
Pushed coins and collected IOUs
Spilled ink and broke pens
Too many hours in the Night Jazzing about youth and the repercussions of aging in a time when aging was an agonizing sin we cured with creams and needles
The table was deliberately a mess with scattered tea leaves half smoked sticky icky sticks full of inspired inspirations, drained drank empty wine bottles and other alcoholic deviances, and incoherent ramblings cauterizing the senses
uncompleted poems full of scribbled and scratched out words poke out from anyplace not covered by crumpled origami cash resting like a weird paper green zoo of swans frogs and paper airplanes.
The suns rays manage to find that one area in between the window shades and curtains to shine brilliantly into our darkly kept stygian tomb
Illuminating a night of lexicon ****** broken handed betting, and passion only poets and writers aspire to conquer
We rubbed out our sleepless crusted eyes and gathered our ink stains and haunted dreams and left into the morning that we found in some skeletol low rent motel room on the side of this deserted desert highway...
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