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JC Moyao Feb 2015
So you're at this bar in East Atlanta.
Lofty, softy East Atlanta.
Where all the lovely cannibals gather in a mass frenzy
of mendacious liveliness
and pseudo-intellectual conversations.
Everywhere you turn
it's the same gang of
disillusioned catastrophes


Husky Hank has a jaw that can cut through concrete.
He's seated in the stool next to mine,
(A handsome brute in the midst of his quarter-life crisis)
hangs his head at an angle,
And begins to sob hysterically.
Snot and all.
From what I can make out,
some damsel had broken his heart due to his lack of stamina and her lack
of support for his band which he says
"kinda sounds like Radiohead before they went mainstream "
Now he can't imagine going on with ought her.
Says life has lost all it's precious meaning.
I want to tell him:
"with a face like yours I could rule the world"
But I let the Greek god howl
For his mortal mistress

There's considerate Cathy in floral slacks
waving her cigarette about like its contagious.
Says she wants to save the world.
But she can't even save herself.
"In the emerging world of ethnic conflict and civilizational clash, Western belief in the universality of Western culture suffers three problems: it is false; it is immoral; and it is dangerous."
She quotes Huntigton ( yes I've read him too)
It's robotic and was almost certainly pre rehearsed periodically in front of a mirror to evade her stammering sputter prone vernacular.
I want to tell her none of us
are really worth saving.
That in a couple thousands of years;
not a single wretched soul will remember the story of a place onece called earth.
But she's still an option
I want to keep open
So I bite my tounge and smile real big

Insufficient Isaac sold
his first painting last week.
Or was it last year ?  

Sarahs singularity

Conors dancing catharsis

Forgettable Francine neglected to
Flower her Siberian Iris's
At 8 o'clock this morning
Now all she wants is a
Fogy eyed
Two bit stranger
To bang her skull against their headboard until she sees god

Sovereign Sally has yet to
spend a single cent of her moms
pension because it makes
her feel secure

I ask her to buy me a drink

Where am I again ?
I Keep being weak and checking your socials onece or twice a week
Just to watch my moods drop from highs to lows
I don't know what makes me look back
I guess it's the memory of being loved to blame for that

— The End —