DOCU 8f

paraphenalia accumulated, laden with dust, under bedclothes and wet laundry, the Shala apartment with that smell of sun and old soap, while the grey radio plays. Bubbles float by and your cat climbed the telegraph pole. Hiccups last for hours, in the rush of youth, tantalised by the future keepsakes of yesteryear, what malcontent have you sprayed on yourself since that fateful day, that forgotten era? Punctuation and structure abandoned, have thou honestly considered the precursors to the situation you are now in, to feel. why does this come to you now? the ephemera of your subconcious, peeling like paint, tarnished. you used to be ancient, now reclined in dark blue, closed and appalled at returning to form. you have destructured yourself, and pieced yourself back together. you are a living crying analysis, analysing, shying away from the unlearnt, which comes in seperate catagories. Filed alphabetically A-Z and Symbls slashed numerical data. Shredding pangs in yur arm, like duck and chinese kiss, under palm moon wheatfields, dangerous spider in a crystal web above you, four thousand undulating choral whispers, plyphonic to the meter specified by you and you alone. Mercury shines in the light of the young hyena, milk sap from tree bark, sticky to the touch on thin tan fingers. pink pleated, round eyed. Black taxi skulks out, burnt heavy, hulk ships infringe on the legitimate request of nature threatened, chased by heaven, so put down your weapons. unfettered temptress, risen like bread. water drains solitary and meaningful. this is not the end.