headspins and heels clack
unhappy girls and their
bare legs goosebumped
highpitched voices;
today there are many people
playing guitars on trains
strings twang
bikes sitting patiently for
their writers. alcoholism wrote
its own fucking book in the
scotch glasses emptied on your
carpet; tables seen to be
the enemy of the worker in a
post-socialist world.
there exists a class of non
awakened proletariat
outside the walls of my private school.
all these and recurring themes
make.
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