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| January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I | |||||||||
| Michael Internicola TALK RADIO JIVE the long gravel road meets up with dirt and grass telephone poles line this stretch and nothing ever happens here. headlights reflecting off hubcaps, shooting light in your face. the hours roll by and you digest what she had to say and it makes no sense. it never does– no matter the woman. the sky is beautiful though. blue then orange then white, finally blue again until the water replaces the trees and it’s something in the way she smiles, laughs at my shitty jokes– her style. i don’t want the oceans without her. i do not want the oceans without her. i don’t know, baby grinding my teeth at what we said. savannah is silent. talk radio jive. |
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