what am I doing alone drunk and writing poems at 3:18 a.m.?
I'm as crazy as I ever was they don't understand that I haven't stopped hanging out of 4th floor windows by my heels- I still do right now sitting here
writing this down I am hanging by my heels floors up: 68, 72, 101, the feeling is the same: relentless unheroic and necessary
is it just me, or do his fingernails seem grotesquely sharp and dirty? if it ain't just me, i am overjoyed. he's a dirty, raunchy, brilliant, crazy old man.
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at 3 a.m.
what counts now
is one more
tight pussy
before the light
tilts out
drunk and writing poems
at 3:15 a.m.
some people tell me that I'm
famous.
what am I doing alone
drunk and writing poems at
3:18 a.m.?
I'm as crazy as I ever was
they don't understand
that I haven't stopped hanging out of 4th floor
windows by my heels-
I still do
right now
sitting here
writing this down
I am hanging by my heels
floors up:
68, 72, 101,
the feeling is the
same:
relentless
unheroic and
necessary
sitting here
drunk and writing poems
at 3:24 a.m.
that's the picture.
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what a crazy old man.
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why?
becauss ah sai so beetch
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"we are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us."
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