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Emily Termotto Jul 2016
Leaving rambles like Rimbaud
In a bed where you felt someone
You shouldn't have knelt
With your bony knees on that bony floor
Prayers never answered anymore.

Kisses with saliva you did salvia
On your sister's bed
Awoke to Ok Computer
Above your head, the Archangel
Lay naked bathing in the light
Of your delusions, your mind twitching
In a state of confusion.
Eunice May 2016
As ambiguous as the title may seem, it dives into the vastness of human nature, it explores a sensitivity that most neglect, and it leaves you breathless with each and every single word.

  At first glance, this book caught my eye due to it's boring cover and unfascinating title. But then I read it's synopsis and I was simply blown away by the stream of consciousness - how she took me from one place to another, how she gave me air and then drowned me underwater, how she sat on the edge of the moon with me and how the moon cut us with each swing between dreams and reality, how she showed me women of the Victorian era wearing ****** little skirts and how the whole street smelled like a smithy - like raw metals and earth, how she took me to the Hastings's backyard and made me an accessory to Alison Dilaurentis's ****** - I was buried alive!... and how she brought me back to the modern bookstore with dusty bookshelves and people walking past me like I did't even exist, like I didn't even belong here, and this wasn't even me...

  Ah! How she made me want more...!
This is such a transcendental experience. It is amazing how the words of a stranger can ignite your mind and give you butterflies. It is simply amazing.

Below is the synopsis:

"  M Train begins in the tiny Greenwich Village Cafe where Patti Smith goes every morning for coffee, ruminates on the world as it is and the world as it was, and writes in her notebook. Through prose that shifts fluidly between dreams and reality, past and present, and across a landscape of creative aspirations and inspirations, we travel to Frida Kahlo's Casa Azul in Mexico; to a meeting of an Arctic explorer's society in Berlin; to a seaside bungalow in New York's Far Rockaway; and to the graves of Genet, Plath, Rimbaud, and Mishima.

  Woven throughout are reflections on the writer's craft and on artistic creation. Here, too, are singular memories of Smith's life in Michigan and the irremediable loss of her husband, the musician Fred Sonic Smith.

  Braiding despair with hope and consolation, illustrated with her signature Polaroids, M Train is a meditation on travel, detective shows, literature, and coffee. It is a powerful, deeply moving book by one of the most remarkable multiplatform artists at work today."

— The End —