Taking 4 English classes this semester, 2 of them Creative Writing focused. Expect more submissions in the near future, after a summer of laziness.


KinkThere is a couple, fresh-faced and oblivious to my gaze, intent as they are on each other.Kink
Eyes shine in the dying light sunset over still water, a postcard perfect night for love. Park benches begin to empty into melancholy a sorry state of affairs. I watch for desperate groping grips, watch for kisses like last breath inhales. Expensive perfume drifts on a late summer breeze, an invisible advertisement for late summer lust. She pulls him closer, small hands tucked into his back pockets, a tell-tale square imprinted against the denim.
Whatever h


Sole MatesLike the girls in her poem we stayed locked in conversation into the woolly hours of dawn, cigarette smoke whipped into the tangles of our hair. Heads full of acid and grass of questionable quality, we trade memories back and forth-- thoughts exchanged like a joint passed between lovers.Sole Mates


Death of ArtThe death of art is a lofty claim Especially when so much of art is death Or as the tarot deck so often reminds us, change But sometimes, change is forgotten in pockets Or spent on a college degree And all that remains are our wordsDeath of Art
Cuz see, last time I checked Words were free A renewable resource available to all who Can dig them up Polish them off and put them to use
Some of us have been taught in brick buildings Some of us have been taught on the streets
Some of us have never really been taught At all
But
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You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.
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We're Just Two Lost Souls Swimmin In a Fish Bowl
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You cannot depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.
-Mark Twain (1835 - 1910), A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
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There's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home ~ Sixx AM's "life is beautiful"
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i'm here, i'm real, it's true! I do exist
i drink your milkshake?
--
"My little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 'twas all about,--
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun."
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Just think how much deeper the ocean would be if sponges didn't live there.
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It is remarkable how similar the pattern of love is to the pattern of insanity
Cheers!
A.
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