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removed.polaroid-scrabblePoems
on another thought: maybe women shouldn't walk alone in the night, in the labyrinth of outer-urban streets where foxes roam... esp. if she has the audacity or rather, the impoliteness of sharing a footpath with a man drinking a beer and not making eye contact, while she says: under her breath - GET THE **** AWAY FROM ME... me, beer, forward is the only logic... i felt so ******* heavy, but i just had to laugh out-loud... a few steps later and there she was, once more, a little dot on a canvas of cold murk... sure, she was smaller than me, but she must have imitated a sprinting geisha... legs almost tied together, or perhaps: imitation of a centipede... whatever it was after her: cobra wings in self defence... the logic still stands: me, beer, ******* FORWARD... i'm guessing the beard and some bad experienced: i showered, oiled the ****** hair, had an amnesia-reversal moment walking with one beer: **** forgot to buy ice... no point going back to the shop for merely ice, so i took another beer... but here's this little penny hushing offence under her breath, later hearing the reply of: ha ha ha... scuttling away, a sprinting geisha in the outer-urban labyrinth... i wasn't even going to note this, but it's worthwhile to mention who these women are, walking alone in the night, treating the night as if it's a ******* niqab... certain western women think think they're entitled to treat the night as the islamic attire... but at some point comes the saying: the road is for cars, pavement is for walking, i'm having a beer, what's the problem? if we can't walk past each other... the **** you doing out so late? me? getting whiskey and ice... how i have become accustomed experiencing these lilliputians... i don't even know how you're going to cram reverse-psychology dynamics into them: whatever the hell that means... but women walking alone in these labyrinths? coin flip: witches or prostitutes? and as some might think: i'm more in love with the sound of my footsteps, than my voice... the croaking crow beat me to that sort of love affair.
0
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
a sprinting geisha (absurdism 2 point oh)
on another thought: maybe women shouldn't walk alone in the night, in the labyrinth of outer-urban streets where foxes roam... esp. if she has the audacity or rather, the impoliteness of sharing a footpath with a man drinking a beer and not making eye contact, while she says: under her breath - GET THE **** AWAY FROM ME... me, beer, forward is the only logic... i felt so ******* heavy, but i just had to laugh out-loud... a few steps later and there she was, once more, a little dot on a canvas of cold murk... sure, she was smaller than me, but she must have imitated a sprinting geisha... legs almost tied together, or perhaps: imitation of a centipede... whatever it was after her: cobra wings in self defence... the logic still stands: me, beer, ******* FORWARD... i'm guessing the beard and some bad experienced: i showered, oiled the ****** hair, had an amnesia-reversal moment walking with one beer: **** forgot to buy ice... no point going back to the shop for merely ice, so i took another beer... but here's this little penny hushing offence under her breath, later hearing the reply of: ha ha ha... scuttling away, a sprinting geisha in the outer-urban labyrinth... i wasn't even going to note this, but it's worthwhile to mention who these women are, walking alone in the night, treating the night as if it's a ******* niqab... certain western women think think they're entitled to treat the night as the islamic attire... but at some point comes the saying: the road is for cars, pavement is for walking, i'm having a beer, what's the problem? if we can't walk past each other... the **** you doing out so late? me? getting whiskey and ice... how i have become accustomed experiencing these lilliputians... i don't even know how you're going to cram reverse-psychology dynamics into them: whatever the hell that means... but women walking alone in these labyrinths? coin flip: witches or prostitutes? and as some might think: i'm more in love with the sound of my footsteps, than my voice... the croaking crow beat me to that sort of love affair.
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removed.polaroid-scrabble
36/M
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
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