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#messianic
Beat-Up Old Car Vastly under-appreciated possession In dull blue, a MK1, no less, with original rust Inside lingering scents of Exchange and Mart top-notes of WD-40 and miscellaneous mix tapes A car like this gets into your life in lumpy knuckle-barking unsubtle ways, stays there in subtle ones That long drive back to Yorkshire in the quintessential exemplar Clutch cable snaps. ****** and Crap. Hardly helpful but can be accommodated with enough thought rough though it is on starter motor and nerves whenever anticipatory powers inadequate and we are forced to a complete red-light stop Brakes dodgier, exhaust noisier than ideal or legal Gender-ambiguous elderly tyres flirt outrageously with slick tarmac Showing their canvas underwear and male-pattern baldness Keeping this unstable, unsafe, unreliable ultimately essential lump of metal moving and on the road is a fine art Engaging, fluid and intense art; The Clash and The Specials Costello and The Cure in support A distraction then getting hauled over by plod somewhere near Bury St. Edmunds Thatcher's boys. Tax? MoT? Insurance? ID? No real interest shown Any passengers in the back? Clearly no.  Pickets?   Pickets? What? Please open the boot sir... Oh. On your way lad. Drive carefully I was, officer, I was More than you will ever know
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
Memories of The Miners' Strike
Salvador devotes the rest of  his life praying to save the world from hunger and war and pestilence. He preaches to the  beggars: *ignore hunger, thank God for the beauty of this smog- infested sky where the moon and the stars and the fireflies succumb to the blasts of  neon lights and flares of profit.*   He preaches to the beggars:  *endure   life as you sleep in pavements among blots of bubble gum and dirt and spit and morsels of  pity. This hell tempers your faith.* He preaches to the beggars: *learn the ways of gadflies -- know with pinpoint precision where to look for carcass to feast on.* But the beggars gather away from Salvador’s prayers. Cradled by  their pus and grime and  lice and love of  life;  with their hard-bitten   fingers and sermon-broken eardrums and bleeding hearts, they heave the birthing of their own salvation.
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Salvation