Thursday, April 25, 2013

4315. LOOK

LOOK
I have the same gross habits as you -
the same slime'd desire for fortification
and validation as the everyday man in the
middle would have. My life doesn't sing, 
it hollers. I have the same gross dreams 
and distant hopes as the grease-stained
hobo who once rode that rail. We each
ride that road; we each try, and fail.

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