Thu, 18 Oct 2007 22:09:17 GMT
Thud thud thud,
the train slices through the station.
I love the bricks and beauty and confusion of Manchester.
Defined by all the contours and chaos,
I find myself edging closer to home.
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Wed, 17 Oct 2007 23:26:48 GMT
i smell his newport burning
crackling
tips of me nose tell me so.
and maybe like a grandma his ash will fall
forgotten
until i get the dustpan from the cupboard
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Sun, 14 Oct 2007 14:51:21 GMT
i have a yellow pen,
reminicent of a pencil,
the ink leaks with ease,
its blue droplets crawling,
sprawling,
curving according to my whim.
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