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POLL: What is everybody doing this weekend?


JoshK

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write poetry

 

there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I'm too tough for him,

I say, stay in there, I'm not going

to let anybody see

you.

 

there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I pour whiskey on him and inhale

cigarette smoke

and the whores and the bartenders

and the grocery clerks

never know that

he's

in there.

 

there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I'm too tough for him,

I say,

stay down, do you want to mess

me up?

you want to screw up the

works?

you want to blow my book sales in

Europe?

 

there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I'm too clever, I only let him out

at night sometimes

when everybody's asleep.

I say, I know that you're there,

so don't be

sad.

 

then I put him back,

but he's singing a little

in there, I haven't quite let him

die

and we sleep together like

that

with our

secret pact

and it's nice enough to

make a man

weep, but I don't

weep, do

you?

 

 

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I'm gonna skin through bottomless powder to a fat, blue, plastic unclimbed three-pitch WI4+. Then I'm gonna yoyo ski three laps on the way out just because the snow is a dream.

 

Then I'm gonna wake up and realize it's all a dream and that it's effing 50+ degrees and raining again and there isn't any fat ice or powder within 300 miles.

 

madgo_ron.gif

 

Hyalite here I come.

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CLENCHED SOUL

We have lost even this twilight.

No one saw us this evening hand in hand

while the blue night dropped on the world.

 

I have seen from my window

the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.

 

Sometimes a piece of sun

burned like a coin in my hand.

 

I remembered you with my soul clenched

in that sadness of mine that you know.

 

Where were you then?

Who else was there?

Saying what?

Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly

when I am sad and feel you are far away?

 

The book fell that always closed at twilight

and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

 

Always, always you recede through the evenings

toward the twilight erasing statues.

 

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