Sunday, November 1, 2015


I don't mind all the junk piled up : to the
rafters with bicycle parts and motorcycle
chains and headlamp nacelles and broken
down rims and wheels. It's all the same when
the lights are out. If George Washington had
a horse or two, then I can do the same with 
metal and grating. It's not the maintenance I
abhor. It's rather the allegiance to such things
demanded, I hate. I hate that like the plague.
All those Black Death minions riddling the
street with their putrefaction, and the death
wagons coming out under cover the of the
night to cart away another day's gross 
adventure. The canal, and the dike, all that
was filled with bodies. A landfill that slowly
decayed, but not slow enough that you could
build on it. This was a deadly, and useless 
accretion. Even the survivors couldn't play
on these piles of stink. So, anyway, and back
to my point  -  against that, this mess isn't 
anything so bad or damning.

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