Corey Hovanec
	op-ed no.1 (pop) {Green life teems up from the underground Glows in the dark, sifts the sands of garbage Reach hard in for the ragged star fish And only her lipstick bleeds, And the color seeds into all your paint by number schemes What was yellow, what was white, what was day, what was night?-rlj} because, who cares: we had soda and soup (they call it pop there) in our mouths respectively those were better days, huh? though such leaks are obvious lets explain accurately remember when you told me to tiptoe and spilled wine on the floor? cleaned it up clumbsily with ice with the (no) intention of abiding said you were scared of my reaction because of my reaction all the time now nary a modulation only in Theta have i seen the attention i craved and you inflated thanks for that little bit but, who can deliver so much avalon on a platter? (i'm asking) i dreamed of drugs and you were wearing his shoes proposed a secret meeting but those streets are vacant even in the Veridical. bleek city reigns! you were never one to contemplate after consequence so, drunker than your co-star and thinking about those spirits i screwed you to the pedestal then, the lesson is, never risk all for proximity my favorite vision was thigh high and i knew when you turned. the stage saw light fade and by design you birth what i'll die for this is an, opinion-editorial consider the case of the vanishing future

|  © 2005  | waiting line theory