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Spring In Newport
Rely

Sitting, writing in my buddy’s bar
 1
Drinking Sam Summer on tap
 2
Thinking about the very
 3
and desolate place I have to go
 4
The hot bartender, well, not so hot now
 5
Lord, the amount of drugs and alcohol
 6
I need to get back there
 7
Thing is, my body can’t take it anymore
 8
My purest form of artistry has become
 9
a forced game of Russian roulette
 10
But the funny thing is
 11
I’m still isolated
 12
There’s no place for me in their
 13
fucking world either
 14
Still my mind cries
 15
for the warm embrace
 16
of a slow death
 17
And I can’t believe that I
 18
actually thought for a second
 19
about taking a quarter from
 20
the leukemia board
 21
to put in the
 22
prevent missing children box
 23
for a chocolate
 24
The summer douche bags are here
 25
God I miss cocaine sometimes
 26

7 Jul 17

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Comments:

a good verbal model of the structure of the floating world. sort of gently rocking too and fro. humm.... dorothy parker wrote that reading winnie the poo made her want to 'fro up'.
 — cadmium

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