Point of no Retards

September 22, 2010 at 5:04 pm | Posted in life | 4 Comments

I want to leave for London so bad. Now.
Or Mao. Philippines, see the Kremlin, show the uni-digital salute to some skinhead…see if they’ll axe me.

I want to walk down an umarked street, kicking a misplaced pepsi can, see the end of a street I have never known – think about home. 1 000 0000 miles away.

As far, as exaggerated, I still want to get up, pack, fly…crawl, walk, what- ev for as long as my body fuel can burn, as far as the edge of the planet stretch.

What’s with the look?


Feel it – my chest. Or the scraggy ribcage.

It’s thumping, right? – heard of the Tum Tum dreams from West Africa?

In my veins, it’s throbbing, like an uncured erection.


Hold these thoughts…for me – as i take a leak.

The cig stick dancing on my lips, as I talk to you, holding my brief nut case.

Try to look away, as I unziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip.


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