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L Perry Jun 2018
she spoke and it was sunlight
                                       wrapping around my face.

         through the glare I made out
       + papery hands (white, thin)
                  a fragile head.
               I flinched;
          love keeps us still
             like a kick in the ribs
           makes us gracious:              

           how can I
               live my li(f)e
With her clicking her melodies behind my ear?
L Perry Jun 2018
I could embrace you, and wake up the next morning w/ you protruding from my open wounds

Let you squeeze me like a stone
until verse pours from me like blood or water

and never change

unless you'd be down for that

or whatever.
L Perry Mar 2018
exit sweet exit            
   an endless end, the colour
         of transparency.
L Perry Feb 2018
i cranked up the amp
to ten, as the chord rang out
scaled the speaker

         i could see townshend
from my peak; fell, splintered the
      bass. so this is rock.
Nearly broke my arm at band practice today. Guess how :)
L Perry Feb 2018
Once again I'm lost
     Big Billboard  Ronald McDonald
tells me to embrace summer but how
           with the air con in its death throes + baking tar breath.

              In the back with heat stroke + around

                       **** your seatbelt I'm decomposing

             Read too much Burroughs
             Read too much Fear and        
+ all I can think about are mistakes and exes
L Perry Feb 2018
If I didn't have a li(f)e to live
a job to work + bass to play
                   approval to earn/crave/earn/crave again

I could just be like Annie
                                  ­talk to the flies
L Perry Feb 2018

No soaring pain could match her, draped across a dying flame.
Like cinder,
                    she whisper-whistled through lungs thin, teeth sallow,
a promise in song.

“Towera jinner mulbeena,
Poodinyoober mulbeena.”
    It was a good promise;
    belonged to everyone
                                   and wouldn’t change for Tomorrow’s ranges.
It asked for nothing
but patience and faith.
                          From where she lay,
                                              the trees, gums, were akimbo.


                          For generations she had walked, through the wettest of wets and driest of dries.
       With hope in her ribs and a nature savage and pure.
                     You could break her, throw her to the cockatoos,
                                                      ­And yet, ***** and punctured,
                                                 like driftwood, she would drift back,
                                                           ­                                                                Blossoming in your lap again.


                      When the kangaroos have done their dance
                                                 in the twilight.
There she'd been.
Supine. Broken open and
lily-white (on the inside).

    ­                                        and we did this.
                            with our prospecting and land grabbing

                                      we did this,
                      with our parking lots and Starbucks cup

         she was dismembered, priced, "loved," owned.
                                            to the meek edge
                                       of an eternal flame ****** to embers.
Adapted from the last chapter of the novel "Coonardoo" by K. S. Prichard.
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