Page Nine
oct 20, mon 2-0-0-8
still still dwelling in pesky park, turners turds…
Moonriver has left me a comment. He reads my poems with interest. Wow. Isn’t that sweet.
Occasionally I take a gander at Moonriver’s blog, but drowining in fictional bullshit isn’t my preferred way to meet the grim reaper. Truth is a beast that Moonriver wouldn’t recognize if it bit him in the ass.
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deadly dead and the deadly living deadly breathing in your poison breathing your cold souls duly deadened, duly denuded of self, of heart and home and humanness, dully waiting for the day when I am not deadly living – to be deadly dead and duly free of you and done, done, done with your dungheaps.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That isn’t love, someone said to me today, in reference to Lord Matthew’s “love” for me, and it sure ain’t the first time someone’s made that comment. Oh, Matthew’s in something all right, but it damned well ain’t love.
shadowman killerman emptyman lies there on the a rug lying like a rug tempesting like a teapot none of it real none of it true moaning in his monologues you’re not coming back you’re never coming back whaa, whaa, whaa, what the hell is he on about, what the hell is he on, the crimekiller
So the tag someone added to this post (it’s not here on the WordPress version) is Mondfluss. Not only yet another unsolicited tag, but perhaps also a confession? Mondfluss means Moonriver.
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