or others things
more made to order
a place between
(de)composed bodies
of ink
a location of common
recognition
though always
interrupted or just
not fast enough
it's somewhere
to go and play
the last scene again
and again
listen
in the centre
it will be
the same
parked cars and
swing sets
say “let's go here”
it's there
on the rusty banks
and stiff waters
the bridge outside
of town that just
got going
we realize
the wrong way
Whoops... somehow I missed this latest entry... Anyway, the plant who's seed is not from here, sprouted, but struggling to flourish. Does this town encourage the sense of feeling exotic in contrast? (not meant to sound conceeded, but in a sincere way...) There are elements missing, elements of every culture, but one that stings and starves my soul is music - where is the sound of celebration, the universal language? Ho-hum... Btw, I love your "This Town" stuff! ~C
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