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| July 2004 / Volume Five / Issue Three / Online | |||||||||
| Jonathan Hayes | |||||||||
| BLAH, BLAH i feel like i did back then but back then was harmless cuz it was back then a new student of milvia street by the high school in white trash motel parking lot stephen king spook you like don’t touch squirrel got his parents next / door and keeps walking back from their room w/ way too too much highway on his tongue vision in vein knives and drugs and bad tattoos dave sits on the king size bed w/ chicks and dudes and dogs all around him holding street riff-raff court missing most of his front teeth fell while rescuing someone in the northern cascade mountains thirty years old and older then us pink floyd the wall green prison tattoo on his chest over left titty each brick a thought of glue cement thick a pirate’s grin in a eye blink thin he takes the motel room mirror down 420 white labrador puppy dog smiles and me j-bro watching the porcupines spin their needles sent down to university avenue to get 420 puppy dogfood come back and squirrel kicks meth bones it up and then he goes back to indian conversation his girlfriend tells me she enjoys hearing him talk about his tribe and crazy john who always talks is silently reading a book on the floor each chapter a hole in the arm there are about ten of us from telegraph avenue all spun and stupid and brave and beautiful the motel lights never go out and the moon hangs on one side and the sun hangs on the other and always some kind of indescribable in the oakland hills |
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