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| January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I | ||||||||
| Miguel Garcia wackos wackos seem to be every where talking to themselves smelling bad sipping kentucky bourbon from 44oz 7-11 cups nodding in the back seats of buses handing drivers crumpled blood stained dollar bills only to be denied entry because their not wearing any shoes these weirdos are supposed to frightening, loud, uncoordinated, with famously poor hygiene their supposed to frighten people into nerves smiles, humming turning the sound up on their personal CD players change seats, stop talking and hold their breath i don't know that i’ve ever seen a weirdo or wacko. i’ve seen drunks, and drug addicts and yea, they sometimes could have used a shower but, i guess some people were just born reeking of jasmine i’ve seen people who smell bad who were drunks i’ve seen people in rages nodding in the back of the bus i’ve seen people ashamed to explain that their shoes were stolen while they were sleeping and i’ve seen people in ties and suits climb on the bus harass a woman and no one did a thing not even stop talking but so what? i have after all been a drunk drug addict nodding on my way to the dealers sipping wine from a futopia bottle stained with blood watching college students move away nervously disgusted by my by existence and hate full that i’m on their bus i probably babbled too |
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